Flying Dreams
by Illyrian Royalty
Summary: Meet Katie Bell. A fan attending the Quidditch Convention, proud owner of the latest broom, a guinea pig to the twins, a disfigured Gucci bag and it's all courtesy of one Oliver Wood. Well, not the convention tickets but Oliver has done enough already.
1. Boy meet girl Oliver meets Katie

**2nd March: I'm uploading all the beta-ed chapters. There's no significant changes to plot lines, just minor sentence structures and such.**

**Disclaimer: not mine

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Flying Dreams: Chapter One.

Boy meets Girl. Ollie meets Katie.

Katie

The sun shone on my face and the lush green grass was springy under my feet. _The perfect setting for the International Quidditch Convention,_ I grinned, barely able to mask my excitement as I walked purposely toward- a tent that Dad had hired for my best friend Leanne and me to stay in. The tickets to the convention were a birthday gift and I appreciated the chance to meet up with my former Quidditch captain Oliver Wood – the evil git had claimed to be banned from writing (in case he accidentally stabbed himself with a quill), so any news about his pro-Quidditch career was via the newspapers and gossip mongers in the magic world. Whilst Oliver's low level of intelligence led me to believe poking a hole in himself with a feather was entirely possible, the evidence said otherwise - seven years at Hogwarts and he wasn't dying of blood loss yet. Gee, I wonder what pixie he'd hired as his scribe.

The Quidditch Convention was a celebration of the defeat of the Dark Lord. During the war, little of the sport was played as big gatherings attracted Death Eaters and put people at unnecessary risk, so now that Harry Potter had rid the world of the mighty evil called Voldemort, witches and wizards could finally come out and play. I recalled a movie that I'd watched before and couldn't help but hum out a line of _Ding Dong the witch is dead_!Beside me, Leanne gave me a funny look as I attempted a small jig, but I just shrugged in return. There had been stranger things occurring around me, Katie Bell. If that wasn't a compliment, I didn't know what was.

"Katie, you coming in?" Leanne wanted to know as she pulled open our tent flap. I nodded quickly and followed her into the place that I would be staying for the rest of the summer month. After summer was over, who knew where I'd go. Seven NEWTs and still unemployed. I pushed the thought out of my head quickly.

I dropped my duffel bag that contained toiletries onto one of the two king size beds that somehow fit inside the tent and gazed around. "This isn't very shabby, is it?" My younger brother had taken the extreme delight- of showing me the secrets of Muggle camping last week and needless to say, I was scarred for life. It took all my willpower not to beg Dad for a nearby hotel reservation instead.

"It'll do. There isn't any plumbing though," my friend announced rather grumpily as she explored the rooms. "We'll have to conjure up our own bath or shower. The bathroom's rather small for my liking, too…and what's with all this green stuff?" She gave a green tassel that was tied to the bedpost a violent yank and gazed at it in disgust.

"Green for the Irish team - we're staying on their pitch area, remember? The England team's tickets sold out in minutes, so this was the closest Dad could get us. It was either this or a country like Timbuktu."

Leanne let out a groan and collapsed next to me. "Less than one month after Hogwarts and I feel like I'm being suffocated in Slytherin colours."

I gave a little chuckle and walked up to the small mirror hanging by a wooden chest in order to inspect my looks. Four hours of flying on a broomstick in the heat did nothing for my wavy hair. I scowled at the mop of frizz that my head boasted and tied it back with the scrunchie on my wrist. "If you're planning to redecorate the place, count me out - I've got to try and find Wood and first kill him for Alicia, then tickle him to death for the twins, and then give him a massive kiss from Angelina."

"Surely it would have made more sense to reverse the order? I don't think it's wise to hang around for long after you've killed Wood, seeing as there's bound to be loads of screeching fan girls around him."

My shoulders lifted into a shrug. "Alicia insisted on being first - she's still mad that Wood made such a pathetic excuse to avoid his old team. '_The team that worked their asses off at 2 __a.m. in the morning for months to win that Cup'._ Hang on, what's the time? I've got to go now, but we're meeting for lunch at the food stands, right? No sense in letting you loose amongst all the buff boys without a keeper at hand."

I waited for her affirmation before stepping out into the noisy grass plains outside. A rainbow of colours assaulted my senses and I couldn't help but gape at just how many more people had arrived in that such amount of time. Above me in the skies, more and more people were flying in and every few seconds there'd be a popping sound. I grinned at some of the spectators' excitement (a wizard had used colour-changing paint to draw out the Quidditch play of 1964, when England last won the World Cup). Somehow I couldn't wait to hand out to Oliver Wood what he deserved. _Banned from writing indeed! _

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Oliver

"_Wood_, are you paying attention to me?" Coach's voice barked out as he leaned down to stare directly in my face. It was only out of practice that I managed not to flinch as several large drops of saliva sprayed me.

"Yes, sir." I couldn't help the lack of enthusiasm in my voice, but Pete Garrett seemed satisfied and moved on to talk about our itinerary for the day. His voice droned on and for what seemed to be the millionth time. I appreciated just how dedicated my Hogwarts Quidditch team had been to put up with me for so long. I had been told countless times how lucky I was not to have been murdered in my bed at night. _Luck had nothing to do with it, _I smiled ruefully as I recalled the countless protection charms scattered around my bed. A single night raid led by a certain ginger pair was enough to smack caution into me.

A flash of guilt went through me and I recalled the countless letters from my Chasers, Beaters and Seeker, all filled with Hogwarts news when I first started to play pro-Quidditch. I didn't have the time to reply to them then and now it was too late to get in contact. _I miss them, _I thought sadly.

Just before the England team left for the Convention, I received an owl from Katie Bell, one of my Chasers. She told me that for her birthday present, she had received tickets to the Convention and would love to meet me there. In my flash of nostalgia for the good old Hogwarts days and snake-ass whooping, I had replied 'yes' to her letter.

_It's almost time, _I realised nervously and gave Coach a glance. He was still going on about our schedule. After 3 years of not seeing Katie, I didn't know what to expect and I was rather scared of what my old team mate would think of me. I had changed a lot in the short years out of Hogwarts and I didn't know what she thought when she read about me in the papers. Silly? Perhaps, but who said stomachs would listen to reason? I growled at the flip-flip feeling in my belly that normally only occurred on match days and stood up. "Coach, may I be excused?" I asked politely. My team members looked at me in surprise - they had all drifted off in the haze of the heat. Melina Coil, a Chaser, gave me a quizzical look but closed her eyes again when she realised I wasn't about to do anything vaguely dramatic or interesting at all. Such as lap dance for Garrett.

"Excused?" Coach snapped, face red from the exertion of talking too long in one breath.

"Remember? You gave me permission yesterday. I have to meet a friend of mine soon."

"Um…" He scratched his grizzly grey hair and finally waved me off. "Don't forget the noon lunch with the American team though! One o'clock prompt, and WEAR DRESS ROBES!!" he bellowed the last bit seeing as I was already out of the tent.

I found the ice-lolly stand that we arranged to meet at with little problem. No one had recognised me yet, which was a great relief, although that may have had to do with the fact Victor Krum had just arrived in the Bulgaria section and was signing autographs and giving away free Bulgarian team scarves as promotional goodies. Just what those shrill fan girls needed on a summer's day - fainting fits.

Feeling silly just standing there with nothing to do, I decided to buy a dragon shaped lolly for when Katie arrived since it gave me an excuse to actually stare at something without seeming to be rude. Almost immediately, I could feel prickling at the back of my neck.

"Wood?"

"Katie Bell." I turned to see a petite girl standing in front of me. Her honey brown hair was tied back in a haphazard manner just like the olden days. I thrust the lolly to her. "Here, try it. It's the latest flavour on the market - sharkskin melon. It bites, mind."

She took it with interest. "So how have you been, Wood?"

"Fine, fine - can't complain. You?" I grinned and tried to sound casual.

Katie eyed me with a twinkle in her eyes and leaned forward in a conniving way. I could smell the light citrus scent in her hair from the closeness. "Everyone has left me with a series of tasks that I must perform…don't say you haven't been warned."

"They?"

"Angelina, Alicia, Fred and George - the old crowd. They were quite upset by you, you know." She continued in the same conspiring tone. "Okay, I'm not sure about Angie since her task was rather…_different, _but we know that's due to the numerous bludgers sent her way during the games."

"Um…so what are these tasks? I almost hesitate to ask."

"That would be telling now, wouldn't it, Ollie dahling?" Katie drawled. "You should be scared though…very, very scared."

I gulped. The twins' reputation for trouble making hasn't diminished over time. In fact, it had grown tremendously.

Without warning, she pounced on me. I staggered back in surprise as her hands closed around my throat. "K-Katie!" I managed to splutter out as I landed on my back with her on top.

"Alicia was adamant that I killed you, I'm afraid. Sorry Ollie, but she's far scarier than you are, even when you go into Nazi-mode." The girl on top of me said, her face a picture of sorrow. Only her gleaming eyes betrayed her.

Just as I was about to pass out from the lack of air, I realised that I could breathe again. For a second, anyway. The next thing I knew, I was curled into a ball and helplessly laughing as Katie employed a tickling charm to find all my weak areas.

"H-h-have mer-" I spluttered out a row of giggles, "-cy!" I begged her from the ground, torn by the laughter. She relented after what seemed like an eternity. I groaned and clutched my sore stomach as I tried to stand up.

"That's Leesh and the twins done. Here's Angelina's." Katie pulled me up with more strength than I would have credited her miniature frame for and smacked a kiss on my cheek.

I stared at her. "Angelina sent me a _kiss?_" I wanted to know incredulously. Somehow, the others punishments seemed to make more sense.

"Oh, that's because she knew what I had planned." Sporting a wicked grin on her face, I didn't have time to register that she said before I saw a fist flying into my face. The next thing I heard was someone shrieking, _"Oh my god! That girl just hit Oliver Wood!!"_

Katie leaned over to pat me on the back. "Now we're even, Wood. Good to see you again! So how's life?"

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	2. Ooh, a broom! Me want it! Gimme!

**Disclaimer: Not mine

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Flying Dreams

Chapter Two: Ooh a broom, me want it! Gimme!

Katie

_I leaned forward to pat Oliver on the back. "Now we're even, Wood. Good to see you again. So how's life?"_

_His only reply was a low growl that sounded vaguely like, "I'm going to kill you for this, Bell."_

I laughed and pulled him up. Did he really think that after all those years of torture under his 'captainship' I'd still be scared? I'd seen Oliver having an apoplexy, screaming at the twins until his face was purple, laughed my head off whilst he dunked a dozy Alicia in the lake to wake her up and then wrestling with the Giant Squid for possession of the girl. "Come on Ollie! Forgive and forget?" I batted my eyelashes for good effect. Too bad he wasn't fooled.

"An eye for an eye," he told me gravely.

"But good friends always forgive each other."

"Good friends don't punch each other in the first place, nor do they tickle them to death."

"You're not dead."

"Near death, then."

"Aw, be a sport, Ollie! Let's go around exploring," I declared abruptly in my feeble attempt to change the subject. To my surprise, he agreed.

"Just don't call me Ollie," he said as we moved from the stall and away from the small crowed that had gathered.

"Why not?"

"It's annoying."

I rolled my eyes. "That's the whole point."

"What's the point of annoying me?"

"Because it's fun. _Duh._"

"Since when did you get this…this irritating?" Oliver wanted to know. We paused in front of another food stand. Sausages were turning by themselves and the bread rolls jiggled along to a tune that the vendor was humming to. Mmm…hot dogs…my mouth watered at the delicious smell and almost forgot about my companion. Almost, but not quite, as I remembered his question.

"Since I realised England's star keeper is an illiterate jerk that can't even afford a secretary or scribe."

"You're still upset about that?"

"You bet I am. We were so proud - it had been your dream for so long and you'd finally gotten there! Then you just ignored us. Can you imagine how much it hurts to realise that you don't even care enough for your old friends to spend a few minutes scribbling out a letter?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, okay? Can we just forget all of this and have fun?"

"Gee, Oliver Wood actually knows the word 'fun'? Whoops, I couldn't resist that one." I grinned sheepishly. "Any particular places you want to visit that can be classified as 'fun'?"

"Strangely enough, yes."

"Um…Oliver?" I asked hesitantly, almost sure it was all a mistake as he emerged from a hut with two broomsticks and a large box.

"Yeah?"

"Please tell me we're not going to have fun by flying around a Quidditch field."

"We're going to have fun by flying around a Quidditch field."

"I told you to say we're not, though!" My foot stamped loudly on the ground and I felt a tantrum coming along nicely. He was definitely going to get it this time. I should have known it would be something like this…When he had said 'fun,' I'd assumed Oliver had finally grown out of his obsessive world of Quidditch.

The young man looked at me in surprise as he gave me one of the brooms. "What could be better than flying and Quidditch? You do still like Quidditch, right?" he gave me a suspicious look that consisted of both his eyes screwing up to slits.

"I'm attending a Quidditch Convention, aren't I?"

"Should I remind you the number of girls attending this solely on the basis of semi-naked, good looking young men working out in the sun?"

"You just did." I examined the broomstick I held and let out a shriek. "This is the new Rocket Triple 30! It's not even on the market yet. How did you get your hands on these beauties?"

"It's at the last stages of testing and the manufactures chose the England team to give 'em a whirl around. They go up to 150 miles per hour." With that said, Oliver launched himself into the air.

I threw my leg across and kicked off, letting out a cry of surprise and delight at the blurring landscape beneath my feet. It was amazing - purely magical as I twisted and turned 50 feet in the sky whilst travelling at such a speed that I've never gone before. I braked hard suddenly to find Oliver right next to me, a lazy grin on his face. "Glad you could finally join me," he said.

The wide, cheek-splitting grin was still on my face as I turned to face him. "I'm in love," I declared dramatically, throwing my hands out in a theatrical move. "If you get me this beauty for Christmas, you'll never hear another '_Ollie'_ uttered from my mouth. Ever."

"Humph, fickle woman - here I was thinking I'm the love of your life," he teased. "We'll see. Catch!"

My hands automatically moved to grab the red Quaffle that he hurled in my direction. "We're playing one-on-one Quidditch?"

"Nah, I want to see how much you've improved since last time I oversaw your training. Best out of ten."

"A newly graduated Hogwarts Chaser taking on the mighty Keeper of the England team? That's fair," I said sarcastically as I skimmed slowly towards the hoops at one end.

After he had floated to the middle hoops, Oliver turned and cupped his mouth to yell, "The broom's your incentive to score! Get more than 7 in and it's yours for Christmas."

A smile grew. "You're on, Ollie, dear." My hand gripped the new Rocket tighter. It was time to show Oliver what new tricks Angelina and Harry had come up with…

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**Oliver**

An hour later, I was shattered. It was strange how four hours of training with a professional Quidditch Coach every single day (excluding holidays and weekends) did little to prepare me for a mere 60 minutes with a certain brunette. I floated gently to the ground, landing soundly in an elegant dismount that I had practised for weeks before the Convention. I could feel Katie collapsing behind me. It did much to soothe my ego to see my former chaser equally tired.

"So do I get the broom?" she asked eagerly, pulling herself up.

I turned to look down at the girl. Perspiration dotted her forehead and her hair was dark from the sweat, yet Katie's eyes sparkled from the excursion. "You didn't get more than 7 in," I said, hands out to take the Rocket back.

"I so did! Remember the fourth goal?"

A scowl formed. "Shouting that Celina Magick was streaking behind me as a distraction does not count as a goal - it's cheating."

A giggle escaped from her lips. "I can't believe you fell for it! But a goal is a goal. Remember a certain lecture you told Angie, Leesh and I? '_If you girls have to flash that idiot Slytherin Keeper to get a goal in, then so be it!'"_

"I didn't say that." My protests fell on deaf ears.

"And what about the time in my fourth year - it was your last chance to win the Cup…" She pretended to think. "Oh yeah…you saw one of the enemy's team gaping at Angelina and dared to suggest she should sleep with him as bribery for a bad performance on the pitch."

"If I remember correctly, it was George's idea and he was only joking."

"Don't play coy - you blamed it on George when Fred came out with steam in his ears after hearing it from Alicia."

"You sure recall a lot about me, Miss Bell." I joked, hurriedly stamping out the bad memories of what form of revenge my Beater had taken after Fred finished with his twin.

To my surprise, instead of brushing it off as I had expected, Katie blushed. "Yeah, well…"

Her eyes met mine frankly. I swallowed, breaking the gaze uncomfortably. I've always been slightly creeped out by the way whenever I meet her eyes directly, I get the feeling that I'm baring my soul to the world. It's like I'm standing there naked for everyone to see. "It's impolite to stare," I reminded her awkwardly, glancing at the grass under my feet.

"I'm trying to send a telepathic message," she explained flippantly. " _'I should give Katie Bell the Rocket Triple 30 for Christmas'_."

"And is it working?" I inquired, relieved that the moment was over. Like most people, I enjoy a simple life with little complications. Friends are people you get on with - people you can joke around, poke fun at, abuse, torture or simply talk to. Then there are girlfriends - despite the word 'friend' in it, what comes with the package is completely different. That little moment just before had felt awfully like something belonging to the second package and I didn't like it one bit. I don't like complications - friends are friends, no 'girl' in front.

"I guess I'll know in December."

"You can actually wait that long?" I picked up my broom and started walking back. Judging the time, I should have been getting ready for that lunch with the American team. Coach wouldn't be very happy to see his star player turning up sweaty and stinky for a formal lunch. Come to think of it…he wouldn't be very happy to see me turning up as Oliver Wood minus guest.

She paced herself beside me and I was ashamed to admit that I took great delight in lengthening my stride 'til she was almost jogging to keep up. "Slow down, Wood!" she panted.

"It's not my fault that you're so slow," I pointed out reasonably.

"It's not my fault! Blame my parents for passing on the short genes so my legs are stumps in comparison to yours. As for you previous- question, not really, but it's a Rocket series, so I'm willing to wait, especially if it's a present from the great Oliver Wood."

"You really shouldn't bet on it - I'd hate to break your heart on Christmas Day."

Katie snorted. "You really think I'm that delicate?"

"It was a figure of speech. I know you're tougher than Harry Potter and Dumbledore put together."

"I'll take that as a compliment," She stopped in front of the rows of portable showers and faced me almost reluctantly. "Take good care of it." Katie told me seriously as she handed me the broom.

"I'm hardly going to be using a two thousand Galleon broom as door prop." She didn't smile at my feeble joke. I looked at her eyes filled with longing for the broom in her hand and sighed. Eighteen years of pressing myself against Quidditch stores and drooling over the latest broom models gave me empathy for what she was feeling at this moment. "Take it. The Celina Magick goal counts."

"Wha-" Her head shot up in surprise. "You mean it?"

"Yeah. My team mates won't be too happy as we've agreed not to give anyone - not even close friends and families, the extra Rockets as gifts, but I'll handle it."

"You're the best, Ollie!" Katie squealed, throwing her arms around me.

"Eurgh, you're all sweaty! Gerroff!" I managed to remove her arms with difficulty.

"Anything you want, Ollie, dear." She stepped back with a demure grin.

"Anything I want, eh?"

She frowned and quickly amended. "Anything within reason that I can actually do."

An idea popped into my head. It was something Coach had been nagging about for days now - last time he'd mentioned it, he had threatened pulling a random woman off the streets for the job. "So if I say I want you to be my lunch date today with the American Team, would you do it?"

Katie gave a casual shrug. "That doesn't sound too difficult."

"It's agreed then."

"It's a date."

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	3. Violent threats get you nowhere nowdays

**Author's Note**: Oliver might seem a tad out of character in this chapter towards the beginning, but i just wanted to get across that he HAS changed slightly- in my opinion, i think he's graduated from Hogwarts all sweet an naive, just focused on playing pro-Quidditch without realising the other strings like fame attached, so he had to learn fast at people like his Coach's pressure about how to handle the attention and gain maximum publicity.

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**Flying Dreams**

**Chapter Three: Violent threats get you nowhere nowadays**

**Katie**

"I can't believe that I've agreed to this stupid thing," I grumbled unhappily whilst tugging at the flaring sleeves of the dress robes that I was wearing. I stood in the middle of the tent that Leanne and I shared, trying on the only set of dress robes that I'd bought- a light green summer piece that brushed past my knees. Darker green vines snaked around the trims, dotted with the occasional dark red flower petal. It was only after that I'd said yes to Oliver's request did he tell me the whole event was a formal one. _A formal! _I had kicked him with all my might when I saw that evil sparkly in his eyes but that didn't stop him from laughing with mirth whilst hobbling awkwardly on one leg. So here I was, looking like an idiot.

"Relax, you look great, Katie," Leanne cooed instantly as if she could read my mind - I wouldn't put it past that girl – and then she started pulling the sash of the robes behind me even tighter after a moment of careful scrutiny.

I choked. "Loosing…oxygen…can't breathe…"

"Oh, stop being such a drama queen, Katie. You're so short – if you don't want to look bulky and boyish, we've got to emphasize your curves"

"By preventing oxygen getting into my lungs? Great fashion tip, Lee! What are you doing now?" I demanded warily as my friend pulled me down onto one of the beds. She rummaged around in one of the unpacked cases, producing what appeared to be a glittery briefcase. When she wasn't looking, I wriggled the sash looser fugitively.

"Make-up, of course! This will be so much fun!" The girl exclaimed happily, ignoring my horrified face.

"No, no - no way is those things coming near my face. Remember what happened last time? You almost blinded me with the mascara brush!"

"That's only because you moved," she said in exasperation, pulling out her wand. "Now, you can either do this willingly, or I'll use force." It was rather funny how much Leanne resembled a torture warden…okay, maybe not funny seeing as I was on the receiving end of those weapons. Have you seen the eyelash curlers, for Merlin's sake? It looks just like one of those tools from Equipments Know How in Torment 101.

I tried to wheedle my way out by reasoning. Scrambling away from the madwoman, I held out my hands in my attempt to ward her off. "Look, Oliver will be here in a minute - you won't have time to smear all that junk on my face. Surely you don't want your best friend to attend a dinner with unfinished makeup on? I'd look like a clown!"

She glared at me, hands on her hips. "As your 'best friend,' I refuse to let you go until I have prettified your face. You're representing the England team here!"

I gaped. Since when did this 'thank you, Oliver, for that wonderful broom and of course I'll accompany you to dinner'- thing become so important? "Fine, then I won't go!" I plopped down gracelessly on the floor, delighted at the excuse to cop out. Formal dinners indeed! I swear that Oliver just wanted a reason to laugh at me when he asked, seeing as he missed my humiliation at the Yule Ball in my 5th Year. Speaking of the devil…

"Anyone here?" A voice interrupted Leanne. The flap was pulled back to reveal England's Keeper wearing formal black robes tailored for his body. I tried not to gawk at the sight of him all decked out. His hair was even combed for once! Not that the effort was very visible.

"Did I say you could come in?" Leanne snapped in annoyance, transferring her glare to the poor guy. She brandished her mascara wand in his face.

"Easy there…those things are vicious!" he exclaimed, jumping back and throwing his arms into the air. "I'm just here for my date!"

Leanne rolled her eyes and pointed at me. "There she is, the lump on the floor that has an insane repulsion to make-up."

"Hey! I resent that. I do wear lip balm."

"Oliver, can you please tell Katie that all the women at the lunch will be wearing makeup?"

"Um…" He scratched his head uncertainly. "I can't say for sure if they do or not…"

"It's because he's too busy staring at their chests," I whispered loudly to Leanne.

"I do not." He had gone red in the face. "Can we just go now?"

"Aw…he's in denial! Has Ollie finally grown up and realised there's other things in this world than Quidditch?"

"Katie, come now if you still want your Rocket Triple 30."

I stood up immediately, plastering a massive grin on my face. "Let's go! See you later, Leanne."

She gave a resigned sigh and shooed me off, but apparently couldn't resist a final, "Have fun kids!" I could hear snickers as the flap dropped down. At least she didn't cackle like the last time I went out somewhere with a guy…not that eating with Oliver counted as a proper date date, I quickly amended silently. He was just a friend that I'm doing a favour for in order to get my hands on that broom. I managed to stop the drool that had accumulated inside my mouth from leaking out and hurriedly tried to think of something else that was less god-worthy. I cast my eyes around instead.

We were heading towards the Apparation checkpoint that the Ministry set up to prevent random pops everywhere and I could feel eyes staring - a 'couple' all decked out in the midst of T-Shirts and shorts stood out. My stomach fluttered nervously and I was grimly reminded of the last time that I've dressed up – the Yule Ball. That particularly nasty incidence allowed me to even convince Mother not to wear anything remotely formal for my graduation.

The dropping feeling grew in my stomach as we Apparated to the designated spot for lunch. Media was all over the place in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the American Chaser Holly Swann - Beauty of the Century according to the latest polls. She was the top model for all the major sport companies as well, magical and Muggle ones alike. But the moment we arrived, someone recognized Oliver and cameras started flashing in his face. The crowd of people pulled at him, thrusting autograph books in his face or screaming for a quote to print whilst shoving wands charmed to magnify his voice in his direction.

Just so I wouldn't feel left out, Oliver grabbed my hand and posed for the cameras, flashing that grin all the girls in the UK swooned over. I nearly boxed him again so he could have matching black eyes, but unfortunately I didn't get the chance.

Before long, a pair of muscular wizards opened up a path and guided us through the mob forcefully. Once inside, I yanked my hand away from Oliver. "What the hell do you think you're playing at?" I hissed angrily.

"I'm giving the public what they want - more gossip." He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm sorry if you were disturbed by the mob, Katie, but it just goes with the business. You've seen the papers haven't you? I'm portrayed as a playboy and right now that's a rep I need to support. It really wouldn't do for Oliver Wood to turn up _with a friend._"

"Lord save us if the great Oliver Wood should have run out of playthings! All this and you couldn't have thought to mention it before hand? I am doing you a favour you know."

"Actually, I'm the one doing you a favour and you're trying to make it up to me," He pointed out, grinning cockily.

"One more word and you will have difficulty breathing through a broken nose." I threatened, slamming my fist up to his face. How dare he? He knew how much I hated having my photos taken back in Hogwarts. Now he just stood there with that awful smirk, as if all my feelings were a joke compared to publicity.

"Just like the old Katie - always with the violent threats." He informed me happily, draping an arm around my shoulder and steered me away from the entrance and deeper into the spacious tent. There were magical- crystal fountains - everywhere and flowers of all colours littered - the floor and basically anywhere that could support them. A light tinkling music played in the background as people chatted to each other.

I wanted to argue more, but it was then that I noticed everyone staring. Tall, beautifully dressed individuals all looking my way, a curious expression on their faces, and in some cases smirking as well when I blushed.

"Oliver, you're late!" A woman bustled up in tight fitting robes in a bright pink colour. Her blond curls were piled up messily into a bun, fastened using a sparkling rhinestone clip the size of my fist. "And what is that on your eye?"

He brought his right hand up and felt his face to touch the blackening spot that my fist had collided with earlier in the day. "Oh…a little welcome present from back home." He gave me a wry grin that I ignored. I was still mad. "Katie, this is Amanda Steele, by the way - she's the PR manager for our team."

The woman gave me a brisk nod and turned back to him. "Well, we'll have to cover that up, then. Thank goodness it's only starting to show up." Ms Steele moved closer and took out her wand (which was also in pink) to give a small jab at Oliver's eye. "These blemish spells are lifesavers," she muttered, shoving the wand back into her handbag. She turned her cerulean eyes to me and gave me a look over. I flushed red when her eyes lingered on my face and her plucked eyebrows lifted. "Katie…?" she asked pointedly, directing the question to the man beside me who still had his arm around me, may I add.

"Katie Bell, Chaser in my team back at Hogwarts."

"Ah." Ms Steele opened her mouth to say something, but shut it abruptly again. "Oliver, the American team's all here now. Go mingle and for Merlin's sake don't mention any of the new American President's policies!"

"Like I care about politics," he snorted. "Thanks for the reminder though, Amanda."

"No problem. Make sure you stop your date from raising her voice too much - they might have overheard your argument outside. I'm going outside to do some damage control and save the day, yet again."

"Heh, sorry. Katie here's fresh out of Hogwarts so it's not her fault if she doesn't know anything." Amanda lifted her eyebrows at me once again and didn't answer.

I stood there listening, blood bubbling in my veins at what he said. He moved on to the crowd, this time not bothering to drag me along. I walked over to a corner and sat down, angrily thinking over how much my former Quidditch captain had changed. It had been perfect - just like the olden days, earlier on when it was only the two of us. Now…he acted differently in front of everyone else. He seemed to be smoother, more polished, and more sophisticated in general. _But everyone changes with time, and it's been three years now…what did you expect, Katie? _I asked myself, clenching my fists together. There was an array of beautifully arranged wineglasses in front of me, begging to be thrown. I bet even in the crowd, my skills were good enough to ensure I'll hit my target - a certain man's head. Besides, even if I did miss on the first go (which is highly unlikely), 24 glasses say I'd find my mark eventually. I shook my head against the temptation and returned to my angry musings.

I knew that I knew the answer to the question that still shimmered at the back of my mind. I had expected to pick up from the great relationship that he and I shared back in Hogwarts. After that great flying session, I had almost expected it to happen, but it was obviously not to be.

"Get over yourself, Katie Bell," I whispered, standing up resolutely. It wouldn't be as comforting as smashing wineglasses, but it was definitely better than wallowing in self pity.

* * *

Oliver

The dinner itself was a boring affair. I was seated next to Katie and another woman that I didn't know. Katie seemed to be in a 'deep' conversation with the guy on her other side - American beater Jensen Roberts - and I was ignored constantly when I tried to join in so I figured she was still mad. The other woman didn't know anything about Quidditch, so she was out as a potential conversationalist. Instead, I focused all my attention on my food. It was remarkable how many shapes I could see if I stared long enough into the cold leek soup. Finally, ice cream was served.

After dessert had been cleared, I stood up and pulled Katie to me. "Ready to leave?" I asked, praying she was over her little strop and wouldn't yell again. Several of my team mates had berated me for making a bad impression earlier on.

"Sure!" I heaved a sigh of relief. She looked back and gestured to Roberts. "Jensen, you want to go?"

The blond beater grinned and pulled his chair back. "I thought you'd never ask. These jolly gatherings do my head in. I prefer a good old hotdog any day."

I stared, flabbergasted as he joined us.

"Ollie, didn't you want to leave?" Katie asked impatiently when I just stood there, waiting for the guy to finally get the message and _go._

"Oh yeah…" I muttered and pushed my way past brusquely to the entrance. I had to work on my glares, I decided fervently. There was a time when even the hardiest seventh year Slytherin would have dropped unconscious whenever I got annoyed.

Outside, the press still hadn't relented in their endless pursuit of blinding the players. Cameras flashed and flashed, but this time I didn't pause to smile or sign an autograph. Instead, the three of us dashed away quickly.

"Where to now?" Roberts drawled in his irritating Texan accent as we left the rabble behind.

"I think the USA area is to the west," I pointed for emphasis. "Katie and I are returning back to the England camp."

"I'm staying over at Ireland though," Katie put in, giving me a pointed stop-it look. "You want to check out their shamrocks and leprechauns, Jensen?"

"Those are the dudes with beer, right?" Seeing her affirmation, he grinned. "Count me in!"

The two started off without another glance at me. Groaning in exasperation, I trailed behind. Those Americans had a nasty habit of hurting girls, and I wasn't about to let Katie down. She had ruined two of my favourite Quidditch shirts last time she was hurt and that was something I did not want to repeat again - one of them was an autographed shirt from the winning team in 1925 for Merlin's sake – and it took me ten months, two hundredGalleons, one broken nose and nine dates with a horribly sweaty woman with BO problems to acquire it.

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Please review! I'd love to know what you think.


	4. I'm a WHAT now?

**Disclaimer: Not Mine

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**

Flying Dreams

Chapter Four: I'm a WHAT now?

Oliver

I was -woken to a very rude sight as my arms flayed in my poster bed. Chris, the team's reserve Chaser, was looming over me. It wasn't as much as the demented grin that he wore, but the fact he was almost naked. _Almost, _I whispered a blessing to all the deities of Quidditch. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" I demanded as I groped for a T-shirt.

"Practise," he informed me happily and seated himself on an edge of my bed.

The glare that I sent his way did nothing to faze him. I was definitely loosing my touch. "Do you mind? I'm trying to change here. Why another practise today anyway? I thought it was the exhibition match in the afternoon."

"Aw Oliver, be a sport. It's nothing that I haven't seen in the showers before." Chris patted me on the shoulder but turned around to face the tent wall. He examined my tent with interest as he spoke. "Pete finally managed to swipe some of the German game strategies from god-knows-where and is going cuckoo right this second. I think he spent the night translating all the stuff to English and realised just how slaughtered we are going to be this afternoon."

"Nothing I can't handle." My voice reflected the confidence that I felt.

"True, true." Chris nodded his head amiably. "I might get promoted to full Chaser after the Convention, you know. It's a tad late to enjoy all the luxuries that you guys get right now: en-suite bathrooms, single tents to yourselves, walk in Quidditch supply room, limited promotional sports wear, never-ending supply of fan-girls desperate to share your bed…say, that girl you brought to dinner on Tuesday was pretty cute."

"Huzzah for you. Her name's Katie and she's an old friend from Hogwarts," I pointed my finger at him warningly. "That means off-limits."

"You mean taken?"

"No…just off-limits. I don't want one of you guys to fool around with her and leave me to pick up the mess at the end."

"Did you give the same admonition to that Yankee guy she make friends with?" Chris wanted to know curiously as I pulled a brush through my hair in the hopes of taming at least some of my bed hair.

"What's with all these questions?" I demanded, turning to face him eye to eye. When standing, I had a height advantage over the reserve player and I used it well.

He held up his hands as if to ward me off, backing away at the same time. "Hey - don't get all prickly on me, man. I'm just the messenger Coach sent to tell you practise in ten minutes."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I doubt Pete said to interrogate me about my lunch date from Tuesday. That's over and done with."

"Fine, no more questions from now on." He gave a long suffering sigh. "Never mind I'm dying with curiosity, I'll respect your wish to be all brooding and moody and macho and enigmatic." The sandy haired guy paused on the way out and lowered his loud voice. "You know the team aren't too happy that you gave her a broom, right? Plus the commotion from that lunch and you'll find Katie isn't the most popular gal at the minute."

I wasn't sure what he meant with the last comment but didn't give it much thought. I had a practise to attend. Grabbing a clean set of Quidditch robes from the wardrobe, as well as my broom, I dashed out after him.

**

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**Katie**

I arrived to the England match with Leanne and Jensen with some time to spare. It was held at pitch number seven, which wasn't too far away from the Irish grounds, so we opted to walk. By the time we arrived at the stadium, crowds of English and German fans were queuing up to enter the stands. Luckily, there was an American VIP with us.

"I was wrong about all this, you know," Leanne confided to Jensen as we climbed the stairs to the box seats. "I thought handbags were the most useful thing a girl can have, but obviously I need an American Quidditch star as well." She smiled and patted the guy on the arm and slid into the rows.

Jensen's blue eyes crinkled into a merry beam and he took the seat next to her. "Indeed. The number one fashion accessory - one Jensen Roberts at your service." He bowed from his waist in a sweeping movement and Leanne laughed.

"But I'm sure a certain brunette would prefer the Oliver Wood version instead," my best friend insinuated slyly, giving me a grin whilst edging closer to the man on her right.

I took my seat and gave her a not-very-funny look. "Stop it, Lee. I came to the Convention to have fun, not to go on a boyfriend hunting spree like half of the female population here." The memory of a gaggle of Oliver-fanatics and their antics yesterday left an unpleasant taste in my mouth. If I thought that it'd help, I would have screamed out to the world that I wasn't going out with the England Keeper. _If_ I thought that it would have helped. "I just wish people will get the hint and stop bothering me."

"You've been going on about him constantly, though, and we all know how thin the line is between love and hate, plus I feel guilty for stealing your future husband." Jensen quirked an eyebrow at the comment and I watched the two steal a quick kiss.

They had hit it off immediately when I bought him back from that disastrous lunch - and who was I to stand in the middle of true love? Granted, it would probably be more like a summer fling, but the two looked so cute together it was unbelievable. Not many guys could be as relaxed about Leanne's random jabbering nature. Physically, they looked impeccable with Jensen's laid back rugged blond looks and Leanne's groomed style.

However much I supported their relationship though, I didn't want to spend anymore time watching a very heated tongue wrestling match between the two. Instead, I decided to find myself an ice cream seller - the sudden urge for mint chocolate ice cream was overwhelming. It didn't take that long for me to walk from the food stands and back, but by the time I had returned, most of the seats were filled already. I kept my head down as I passed England supporters - having a slimy bucket of toad skin catapulted at me was not an experience I wanted to repeat any time soon.

"Look, there she is!" As I walked past the North stand with a cone in my hand that I was licking, and two others balanced in my other hand, I saw three girls giving me daggers. Evidently I've been spotted.

"She's eating _ice cream_! Does she even know how many calories there are in that single scoop? No wonder she's so fat." The spiteful voice carried across the space. I rolled my eyes and continued climbing the steps, but their chatter wouldn't relent.

"What ever does Oliver want with a fat cow like her? Her hair's all dry and crackled, and she's got freckles all over her face…"

_Breathe, Katie, just breathe. Concentrate on your ice cream…this is not the place to batter their brains out…or break their nose…or give them a black eye…or split their lips…or break their nails…_

I didn't turn back, as much as I would have liked to. Instead, I forced myself on with determination. Such talk was what I had to put up with ever since the stupid tabloids splashed my picture across the front pages and I was furious at a Mr. Wood. No broom was worth the hassle I got from girls and guys alike. To add to the injury, he hadn't even stopped by those few days to see how I was doing. Obviously he didn't care. I took a slobbery lick of my ice cream, savouring its taste, and stomped up the stairs in my attempt to express my bottled up fury.

By the time I reached the box seats, the exhibition match was almost ready to start and I was praying for the English side to loose. Nothing like loosing 780-50 to the Germans to serve as a big-head deflator. I was only at the match because Jensen wanted to spend some Quidditch-related time with Leanne, and my best friend had begged me to come just in case she didn't understand any of the happenings on the pitch.

"Ooh, food!" Jensen spotted my return first. "We wondered where you disappeared to."

"Yeah, 'cause some guy gave us a letter to give to you. He said it was for Miss Katherine Bell only." Leanne leaned over the blond Beater to hand me a thick paper parchment that was folded together and sealed. "We thought he was a messenger from Oliver, didn't we?" She gave Jensen a poke and he quickly nodded his head in agreement. "You going to open it now?"

I fingered the heavy parchment in my hands and shrugged. "Perhaps."

"_Welcome to this afternoon's Exhibition match between England and Germany, ladies and gentlemen!" _A voice boomed out suddenly and the commentator leant over his special box in excitement. A round of cheers sounded around the stadium. _"Before we bring on the two teams, let me introduce each of the teams' mascots!!"_

I actively tuned out the applause and whistling, focusing on the letter in my lap instead. _Is it really from Oliver? _I wondered curiously, _might as well find out now before the real game starts. _I didn't want the nagging, nervous feeling eating away at me and ruin a perfectly good match. Breaking the plain seal, I peeled back the flap and to my surprise, a purple vapour started pouring out. Inside, in a blood-red spider scrawl, I read the single sentence: _You deserved what you got, whore. _I dropped the paper on the floor in disgust. Did they really think I cared about name callings? Immature bratsI pushed the small tingle of hurt inside me away and tried to focus on the game.

Leanne, who had been watching the German mascot entering the stadium, emitted a cry of horror. "Katie! Your face!"

"What about it - ?" I looked at my hands that had come into contact with the substance and groaned out loud. They were a dark magenta in colour and rapidly swelling. I could feel my face numbing as well and knew I soon would be having trouble with my vision as my eyes were beginning to be reduced to slits.

"We should go," Jensen said worriedly as more and more people noticed a more interesting spectacle other than what was occurring on the pitch. Someone sitting across from us waved energetically and I saw another person pointing most empathetically in our direction.

"You're right. Have you got anything to hide her with? Something to cover her face? Even a spell would do. I don't want the press to take a photo of her like this." Her hands fluttered nervously and her eyes darted rapidly, taking an inventory of what she normally carried with her.

"Just hurry up you guys. It's getting worse." I reminded them tersely, having increasing difficulty in pronouncing my words.

"Okay, okay! Oh, I know! There was that um…that spell I revised for my Charms NEWTs!" In haste, Leanne brandished her wand and muttered a spell at me. The next thing I knew, I was shrinking rapidly. When I deemed myself brave enough to open my eyes, the entire world had increased in size and I found the large feet around me vaguely disturbing. Somehow I couldn't bring myself to care about that, since I was _still _swelling and I could almost feel seams popping. I examined myself in a detached way and had a strange feeling that Leanne's misfired spell had turned me into a handbag.

The hysterical shriek: _"She's a Gucci Senna Fabric Horsebit Couvier Medium Hobo!" _confirmed my suspicions.

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Nothing like a good ol' spell gone wrong, eh?

Review please!


	5. The one where twins play surgeons

**Disclaimer: Not mine

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**

Flying Dreams

**Chapter 5: The one where twins play surgeons**

**Katie**

How Leanne and Jensen managed to 'smuggle' me away from the Quidditch stadium, I never knew (and probably will never find out, either). There was a hell of a lot of pushing, shoving, screaming, staring, kicking, pulling, punching, dragging and spinning involved for me though, as my best friend swung me around her arm and struggled to get free whilst Jensen attempted to clear a pathway from curious spectators. To sum it up, it was rather chaotic. By the time we reached one of the stadium gates, I was muttering prayers to all the saints that I could recall. My deliverance came when Leanne barged into our tent and stopped abruptly.

Two figures immediately leaped up when they saw us enter, but the other two red heads remained where they were, hands running over the Rocket Triple 30 that Oliver had given me. "Alicia, Angelina, boys…" Leanne's voice was noticeably cooler towards the twins. "What are you all doing here?"

"We got tickets to the Weird Sisters gig that's happening here tonight and decided to arrive early," Angelina explained whilst eyeing me in puzzlement, as if trying to place me from somewhere.

"What she said. Where's Katie?" Alicia peered over my best friend's shoulder to look at the tent entrance.

The girl shifted uncomfortably and held me tighter whilst Jensen gave a small cough. The couple exchanged a look and Leanne sighed, opening her mouth to deliver the big news-

"That's the new Gucci hobo isn't it?" Angelina interrupted before a word could be said. Her eyes gleamed in excitement and moved closer and inspect my bulging mid-section. The chocolate-skinned girl shared her mother's passion for designer goods and it almost rivalled that of Leanne's. Almost, but not quite. "I saw it in last month's Vogue and it's supposed to have been sold out in American within four hours! I've wanted one ever since but I've just spent all my savings on the new apartment...but yours is an awfully funny colour if you don't mind me saying. That shade of pink makes the whole design look awfully tacky and it's incredibly bulgy as well. What have you put in it?" She glared at Leanne accusingly and waited impatiently for an answer whilst I grew steadily larger. It was a shame no one else was paying attention to me, since Alicia had returned to add her drool to the twins' over my new broom stick.

"I didn't do anything to it!" Leanne protested vehemently, adamant to protest her innocence against the crime of disfiguring designer bags and never mind the fact I had swelled up to at least the size of a fat piglet in the time being. "This is Katie and she came like this! It wasn't my fault!"

The twins looked up in interest. "Katie comes as a handbag?" Fred asked in wonderment.

"Now that you've mentioned it, the thing _does _resemble our dear friend." George grinned, adding his input. "That colour is simply the epitome of Miss Bell's wonderful femininity and the shape obviously takes after her astounding body."

Was he saying that I was fat? I wondered angrily at the implication, focusing on making the superbly heavy and hard suitcase levitate and drop on their heads. When nothing happened, I exhaled silently and promised them a slap on the head as compensation instead. When I had my hands back anyway.

"Listen to me, you dolts. Someone put a load of weird stuff into an envelope and when Katie opened it, her entire body started swelling and turning to this nasty colour. We were at the England v. Germany game and people were staring, so I panicked and turned her into a handbag."

"That's Katie?" Alicia asked in shock.

"Didn't I say that at least three times already?" Leanne cried out in frustration.

"I thought you just named the bag as 'Katie,' like guys with their teddies and stuff." Alicia shrugged sheepishly and gazed at me in concern. "So how do we get her back to normal?"

"Oh, I know! I know!"

"No, pick me!"

"He's lying! That hare brain doesn't know a dint." George swatted at his brother's hand whilst sticking his own eagerly into the air.

"Turkey brain knows even less!" Fred responded with a punch of his own. Angelina sighed in exasperation as her boyfriend started having a wrestling match on the floor.

"Fred! Stop it."

A freckled face looked up at her stern expression and groaned. "Aye aye, captain. Sorry bro, but it's the only way to keep my privileges at night," he explained earnestly to George and pulled him up. He pondered over the original question and nodded most confidently. "We can get Katie back to normal with no problem, everyone. Just count on us. We're the Supermen in the magic world."

"Yeah, also known as Pooper-men." George took the liberty of flashing us a new banner of their updated U-No-Poo products and stuffed it quickly back into his pockets when Alicia made a move to grab the animated flag.

"Very catchy name," Leanne noted dryly and passed me to Fred's outstretched hands reluctantly. "With all your joke products and fiddling of spells, I trust you two not to mess this up." She warned. "I can't remember what spell I used since I've never worked well under pressure but it might be an evolved version of _Transgario, _as I've been trying to figure out how to change objects into designer replicas for ages now and that must have been the first thing which popped into my head."

George nodded gravely at Leanne's comments and muttered them back to himself, perhaps to commit it to memory. It was as if the twins had undergone a personality change, adopting the sombre visage of ministers as they took charge by holding me reverently and pulling out their wands in flourish. I didn't like the mischievous glint that remained in their eyes one bit, but what can a stupid Gucci bag do? _Note to self: the minute I get my opposable thumbs back, write to the Gucci designers and ask them to include robotic arms in their next season's collection of bags, and perhaps a vocal box as well, and a leg attached to kick certain friends._

Within moments, I was set out on a table that Fred had conjured up. A piece of green tissue lay beneath me and a floating chandelier trickled wax directly above me. I guess they were trying to replicate the atmosphere of a muggle surgery theatre. A freezing spell was cast to slow down my swelling and when George produced the toolbox, I gulped. Extremely sober, he pulled out pieces of equipment one by one, carefully setting them out within my line of sight. There was a huge pincher thing with sharp points, a vicious drill with far too many metal bars attached, jagged blades that looked rusty and was still dripping with light orange stuff…to accompany them were vial after vial of solutions of a mixture of colours. By the time George had set the final flask of bubbling blue goo onto the table, the tent had gone silent.

"Would you need all that?" Leanne asked timidly.

"We like to be prepared, don't we, Fred?"

"Certainly! I'd hate to abandon Miss Bell in the middle of a delicate procedure to root around for a piece of canary cream because my stomach was disturbing me."

The twin on the other side clapped his hand bossily and made noise to shoo the audience out of the tent. "We need peace and quiet. I repeat, peace and quiet. Please leave the tent for the good lady's safety. Can everybody go through the door and leave."

None of them protested as they filed out willingly. I steeled myself for the worst when George came back. "Let's get started, brother dearest. Gloves?"

"Check." The two pulled out a pair of flexible dragon hide gloves.

"Forceps?"

"Check." A pair of muggle tweezers with pink handles was produced. I had a sneaking feeling that it might have once belonged to Angelina.

"Muffler?"

"Check." They snapped on those awful fluffy pink ear muffs that we once used in Herbology class back in Hogwarts. Had I not been increasingly scared, I would have laughed at their affiliation with the colour pink.

"Wands?"

"Check."

"Now let's get cracking. Spell?"

"Sedation and Numbing."

"Good choice." Fred hummed his agreement whilst George popped his fat head into my line of vision.

"Katie, this won't hurt - it'll just make you more relaxed and sleepy and make sure you won't scream the house down when we go wrong."

I wasn't very reassured by his reassurance, but he took my silence as a sign to go ahead. Within seconds of the incantation, I felt a floating feeling spreading over me. _Phwee, this is fun! Ooh, lookie! A bobbing ginger blob above me…and now there are two! Gimme! Wow…a shiny silver thing flying closer to me! _I stifled a giggle when the thing poked at me. I couldn't really feel it but it looked really funny as it went up and down on my side, _like a bouncing castle! Yay!_

"She's under the spell now I believe."

"Good, let the fun start."

"Permission to cackle in an evil manner?"

"Permission granted."

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Gosh - it's ever so difficult to make the twins funny and keep them true to character. I've tried to do my best here. Review and tell me what you think!


	6. A leaf from Fred and George's book

**Author's Note: **This entire chapter is in transcript mode.

(Porgy is a fish you might otherwise know as sea bream, but I think Fred is under the impression it's a relative to 'porky'.)

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**Flying Dreams**

**Chapter Six: A leaf from Fred and George's book**

The following is an excerpt from Fred and George's transcripts (magical documentation used during experiments to record the happenings and their random results): 

**O'Ugly One** (aka.Georgie the Porgy): Okay, the quill's set up. Go.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster (aka.Mighty Fred):** Hmm…Okay, my observations as follows: it appears to be just a regular swelling vapour that Katie encountered. Similar to our very own patented _'Super Swell Shocker Solution' _that comes in a range of multiple colours all at the bargain prize of 4 sickles per tube.

**O'Ugly One:** Please do not try and entice me with our own brilliance. The transfiguration may have altered the simple potion however. We have to tread carefully, Freddy of mine.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** Too right, Forge. Shall we take a sample for our products testing lab?

**O'Ugly One:** It would be a crime not to. Katie herself had donated her body, mind and spirit to our prankster religion years back. How can we face her knowing we did not follow her wishes to the end?

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster**: You speak the truth of Jokers, my brother. Now let's try the vial with the green stopper and pass me the drill, will ya? No, not that one - I want the other one with pink handles and zebra patterned rotational blade things.

**O'Ugly One**: Sure…here you go. Good choice. I applaud your taste in dangerously sharp and pointy objects.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster**: Thank you.

**O'Ugly One**: You're welcome. Oh, I think I need to put a fresh batch of parchment under the quill. Hang on.

Hey! Why does it say O'Ugly One next to my name? The quill's writing more under O'Ugly One! Stop writing! Stop I tell you! I'm not ugly, you are! You changed the names didn't you, Fred? How dare you lie so blatantly about my dashing looks? I'm going to tell Angelina and Alicia on you. If you're handsome, we're having pickled oranges for Christmas filled with roast peppers because Mum has gone vegan.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster**: Breathe man, breathe. And don't curse our Christmas lunch. I only speak the truth - it wounds me ever so exceedingly to hear the accusation of blasphemy coming from my own womb-brother's mouth. Besides, get your priorities in order! Katie first, then we'll operate on your ugly face and see if we can obtain a similar likeness to my flawless beauty.

**O'Ugly One:** …

T**he Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **That puce colour is most unbecoming on you.

**O'Ugly One:** Are you talking to me or Katie the Handbag?

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** Um…Katie?

**O'Ugly One:** Good.

Okay, I've got a vial of sample for future testing. I will now proceed to the main operation. Wands at the ready.

Well, that didn't work. Let's try another, coupled with the '_Grotheda Anmeodia'_. Yes Fred, it's the flame red one. Two drops only and speak the spell the moment the liquid drops.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** That was…interesting…

**O'Ugly One:** Quick! The reversal spell.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** Do you think the others will notice the smoke pouring out from the tent? I really don't want to be semi-killed tonight. Imagine my shame if I'll have to appear before the Weird Sisters gasping, drooling and crawling like Frankenstein's monster all because Angelina applied the noose around my neck for a touch too long.

**O'Ugly One:** That may be a great improvement to what ever look you're trying to go for right now. Don't glare at me like that - it's you who want to be a little red man with horns and a tail coming out of your butt. Nevertheless, go and seal the entrance just in case.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** Yes ma'am.

**O'Ugly One:** Let's get a move on… So that didn't work…let's try this little beauty.

Whoops. Um, Fred? Get a bucket of water will you?

Ouch - I just burnt my pinky! It hurts! Owww - my poor pinky, it's going all pink and red, especially if I give it another squeeze. Kiss it better! I demand you kiss it better since it's your entire fault in the first place!

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** Oh you poor boy. I didn't know you swung that way. Gay I can understand, but handbag-cest? That's truly sick man.

Why, Merlin? Why me? Why do I have to be the one saddled with a brother who takes delight in fondling a bag rather than a set of decent _girls' _breasts instead? Who does that in the 21st century? I'll tell you - NO ONE! Because it's wrong, plain and simply WRONG! You make me want to puke into that horrible handbag.

Hey, come to think of it, the softness of the hide is very calming when you stroke it like this, plus the delicious smell is simply captivating. Mmm….

**O'Ugly One:** Gucci makes one hell of an alluring bag, even in that colour with half of its side burnt and the other puffing up yellow smoke. It's not my fault.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** Of course not. We can blame the evil million-pound designers later on and sue them for corrupting my brother. Now let's get a move on. _Allegercha._

**O'Ugly One:** …

**O'Ugly One:** …This will be good.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** Whoa…

**O'Ugly One:** I'm speechless.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster**: I'm not, so I'll do the report. Ahem. Right now, the smoke that George started is turning into a rather distinct shape that resembles our friend Katie. My brother is staring intently at it. Note, must see if spell is speeded up by scary staring later.

**O'Ugly One:** Don't be silly Fred, of course it is. See, the handbag's slowly dissipating, and we can make out Katie's features!

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** Ah…there's her adorable nose.

**O'Ugly One:** No it's not, that's her hair.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** How can her hair be a pink blob?

**O'Ugly One:** Simple, because she dyed it pink. Duh.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** Why would she dye it pink?

**O'Ugly One:** To fool you into thinking that it's her nose when she get turned into a £300 designer handbag.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** Why would she know she'll get turned into a bag?

**O'Ugly One:** Because Katie's smarter than you! Ha!

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** No she's not.

**O'Ugly One:** Yes she is.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** No she's not.

**O'Ugly One:** Yes she is.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** No she's not.

**O'Ugly One:** Yes she is.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** No she's not.

**O'Ugly One:** Yes she is.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** No she's not.

**O'Ugly One:** Yes she is.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** No she's not.

**O'Ugly One:** Yes she is.

(_Omission of next ten pages_)

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** No she's not.

**O'Ugly One:** Yes she is.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster:** No she's not.

**O'Ugly One:** Yes she is. Now shut up!

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **No, you shut up!

**O'Ugly One: **No, you shut up! I said it first.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **And I said it second. So what?

**O'Ugly One: **So you should do what I said.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **But I'm older so whatever order I say should apply to you every single time. So I say you shut up.

Hey, you shut up! Way to go Fred. Okay, you can unshut up now.

I bet I can outlast you in the silent treatment. No?

You just wait and see, George.

See?

Look, I'm keeping my mouth shut. Zipping it shut and throwing away the key. Don't you all rush in to catch the invisible key.

That was sarcasm by the way.

Sarcasm's when I mean the opposite of whatever I say. Why are you frowning? Is it because you still don't get what sarcasm is? (sigh) Let me explain it in greater detail for you.

**O'Ugly One: **Maybe Katie might enjoy your explanation.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **What?

Oh! She's becoming more solid in that smoke thing. Wonder what'll happen if I put my finger into it? Hehe, wouldn't it be hilarious if I stuck a finger into her forehead and it gets stuck there? I would have Katie Bell under my fingertips then. Hahahahaha.

**O'Ugly One: **I just had a brainwave!

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **Cool! I want one as well.

Wait a minute.

Just a bit more.

Hang on.

It's coming to me.

Oh yes! Now I've got a brainwave too. Ping goes the light bulb! C'mon - ping with me! Ping! Ping! Ping! That's the spirit!

I loved the little hop at the end of the last _ping, _that was inspirational, George.

**O'Ugly One: **So are you thinking what I'm thinking?

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **It depends if you're thinking what I'm thinking.

**O'Ugly One: **I think you're thinking what I'm thinking.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **And if you're thinking what I'm thinking, then I think that it's a luminous idea.

**O'Ugly One: **So go and get a camera.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **Why a camera?

**O'Ugly One: **So we can carry it out. I thought you were thinking what I was thinking, and I was thinking we need to take a picture of Katie dearest.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **Ah, good call. I was thinking of a certain make of broomstick instead. We can take a picture of that instead of a misty Katie that's still sedated and connected to a bag.

**O'Ugly One: **I'll give you two minutes to figure out a much better use of a photo of Katie as a handbag.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **Give me a time limit why don't you? You know I don't work well under restraint. Okay, lemme get into your mode of mind.

Uhmm………..mmm……humm…….

**O'Ugly One: **One minute up.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **Ping, ping, ping, ping, ping!! I got it! Oh that's a great scheme. It'll be like Christmas come early! Ho ho ho.

**O'Ugly One: **Let's cut the recording now just in case it gets tracked back to us. No need to keep our grand plots on paper when we are the owners of such ingenious cunning.

**The Handsomely Gorgeous devil prankster: **Wait! I want to get an evil laugh in before you cut it.

Ahem.

Give me a second. I need to massage my throat and warm up my vocal cords.

Lalalalala.

Doe ray so far…..(coughs violently) I guess I shouldn't have tried for the high C.

Don't tap your foot at me, George! I'm ready now. Ready? Here it comes.

MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!

Over and out.

_(End of transcript excerpt)_

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Review!


	7. One Mummy Needed

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

**

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Flying Dreams**

Chapter Seven: One Mummy Needed

Oliver

I checked the timepiece strapped to my wrist as I jumped along with the Weird Sister fans and sighed - time to call it a night. When I mentioned the possibilities of leaving to the girl by my side, Lucia giggled and batted her eyes flirtatiously in hopes of getting invited into my tent for a nightcap but I wasn't in the mood. And I told her so.

"You're no fun," she pouted teasingly, shouting over the screaming music fans. I turned to look at her curled brown locks and glitter-smeared face with amusement.

"No?" My hand made its way to graze her bare stomach and I pulled her closer to my body in rhythm to the song. If I was never going to see this girl again, might as well leave a lasting impression. The media liked to interview my flings for juicy details and it would never do to disappoint. We swayed along to the slow tempo and I lowered my lips to plant soft kisses along Lucia's bare neck. "Still no fun?" I murmured. My free hand now played with her shiny curls.

"Maybe if you go slightly lower…" she hinted huskily, directing my lips.

A grin spread across my face and I unattached myself from her. "No can do, sweetheart. You're cute, but not cute enough to cost me half an hour of endurance with Pete Garrett's spit raining on my face." Before she should answer, I melted into the raving crowds with a cheery wave.

I was in good spirits as I made my way to England's campsite. We had won against Germany 240 to 30 - all down to my superb skills - and I had had a good companion for the concert tonight. That may explain why I never saw the owl coming as I was replaying my grand saves this afternoon in my mind, evaluating the reaction time and performance against my personal best.

When I lifted my tent flap up to enter, a massive shadow separated from a clump of tree branches and swooped down on me. I yelped and made movement to protect myself but the only attack came from an envelope hitting me on the head.

Feeling slightly foolish, I picked up the letter and went into my tent. "Stupid owls," I muttered meanly, hoping there wasn't any undercover paparazzi in the bushes that took advantage of my cowering moment. Ripping open the letter with more violence than required, I pulled out a photo and an accompanying letter.

"What the hell…?" I took one look of the photo and all the blood left my head. It was of Katie stuck between a human form and that of a lumpy pink thing that had handles attached to it. Hurriedly, I unfolded the letter and scanned through the contents, a foreboding feeling unfurling in my heart.

_Dear Mr. Wood,_

_May we first congratulate you on the spectacular England victory against the Germans today? Your flying was simply awe-inspiring._

_However, on to business: As you've no doubt observed from the photo, your 'friend' Katherine Bell is currently being held captive by a spell and she remains in limbo between the human and Gucci handbag form. We understand the photo quality is poor, to say the least, so we have thoughtfully provided small labels enchanted onto the picture so you would not have to strain your eyes to make out any significant details._

I glanced at the glossy image in my hands again and just as the letter said, white writing appeared line by line next to each item and disappeared again when the vaporous Katie moved. My lips curled in disgust as I watched the words: 'This is KT's nose, not her hair', 'this is the Gucci handbag', 'this is KT screaming (in pain)' and such emerged with sparkly arrows pointing to specific areas. Thoughtful my arse. I carried on reading.

_If you wish to save her, then you must give in to our conditions and place two Rocket Triple 30 inside the box that you'll find behind the Rentals Shed under the lavender bush before noon tomorrow (12th August). Fail to do so, and you'll receive a disfigured designer handbag as a present in the evening tomorrow. We understand that such a present is very enthralling, but may we just remind you again that Katherine Bell's life is in your hands. Yes, your Quidditch gifted, extra large and calloused hands. _

_Keep up with your Quidditch wins, Mr. Wood, and a pleasure doing business with you._

_Love,_

_The Conscientious Kidnappers of Katherine Bell_

_(TCKOKB for short, pronounced as Teh-Ko-Ke-Beh)_

_P.S. Tell anyone and TCKOKB will become TDOABPKAKB- The Disposers of A Bag Previously Known As Katherine Bell. As you can see, such a name is hardly striking so we are reluctant to don such a title unless you force us to. )_

I blinked as I finished reading and breathed in deeply.

And then took a second deep breath.

And another.

And a fourth time.

My blood had gone cold and I didn't know how long I stood there, holding the dirty scrap of letter and the photograph. All I could think about was how Katie needed me.

I exhaled slowly and rubbed my temples. _What the hell was I suppose to do? _Chris' warning from this morning ran strong in my mind. '_You'll find Katie isn't the most popular gal at the minute.' _That was probably the understatement of the century.

"I need my mummy," I whined petulantly.

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That was a short one! But my super-fast update should have made up for it, no?

Review please!


	8. Who's rescuing who again?

**Authors Note:** A few of you were worried that Katie was hurt in the last chapter during the spell reversal but I assure you all, no character is injured in the making of this story and no animals are hurt in the production of this fanfiction either, just to rest your minds.

**Disclaimer: Not mine.

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Flying Dreams**

Chapter Eight: Who's rescuing who again?

**Katie**

I grabbed the bottle of butterbeer and took a swig before swinging my right hand away in a dramatic gesture. "I hate girls," I announced, gulping down another mouthful of the drink and popping two cola pops into my mouth.

Angelina nodded in sympathy; too busy cramming her own gob with chocolate to reply whilst Alicia raised her eyebrows in indignation. "We're girls too! Stop with the stereotypical discrimination here." A lollypop hit me on the head. "Not every girl is an Oliver Wood die hard, evil, catty, bitchy fan girl."

"Just ninety percent of the female population," Angie murmured wryly and rolled onto her stomach from a sitting position.

"Oliver worship should be considered a felony." I growled angrily and mashed a bowl of crisps to express my point. The crunchy sound as the thin potato slices gave away under my fist did little to satisfy my anger. It was about 11 in the morning and my two friends had been trying to counsel me against murdering a certain Mr. Fred Weasley and Mr. George Weasley all morning, since around six. They had shown up with an armful of Muggle goodies, knowing I couldn't tolerate any more of the twins or their antics for the day. Leanne had the good sense to escape when she could.

The evil gits had turned me back but only after two whole hours of humiliating me whilst I slowly gained my body back from that vapour spell thing one of them performed. I distinctly remembered flashes of a camera and I shuddered to think what blackmail they would inflict on me in the future. Needless to say, I wasn't in a very jovial mood. It didn't help that my skin was still that atrocious shade of pink.

Alicia rescued the bowl, placing a cushion in my hands with the ease of long time practise. "As long as you don't murder all of our food, I'll support you in whatever you want to do."

"Ditto. I can try and pull some strings at the Ministry to see if the law can be passed or something." Angie smiled playfully. "Penalty for Oliver Worshipping - a hideous dye job and perm for life, first degree and no leniency for good behaviour afterwards."

"Or we can just kill the devil in question. Speaking of which, you didn't do a very good job of that, Katie. He's still breathing and as far as my knowledge goes, corpse raising and resurrection has yet to be approved by the Ministry."

"Sorry to disappoint you 'Licia, I'll do better next time, never mind first degree murder is an offence in itself and I'll be rotting away in Azkaban in the next fifty years. So good to know where you priorities lie."

"Hey! You're wasting perfectly good rage on me for nothing. I'm on your side - who was the one that paid for all this?" Alicia gestured to the littered ground where empty packets of various confections lay. "Chew someone else who deserves it, like that _bastard_ who I saw dancing with some slut last night at the Weird Sisters gig."

"Leesh! We weren't gonna mention that!"

"Why not?" Alicia folded her arms and glared at her other friend obstinately. "She knows Wood's rep from the papers and it's good to confirm it for once and all. It's dangerous to get involved with someone like that and I don't want to see Katie hurt."

"Oliver was with someone else?" I asked faintly, the anger fading. It hurt me. I didn't know why but it did - as if I had been betrayed or something equally silly like that. I looked to Angie for confirmation and she nodded.

I braved a smile. "Well, that adds to the growing list of 'Why Pummel Wood to Death' then."

"I'm really sorry Kates," Alicia crawled across the floor and gave me a hug. "I didn't know your crush had returned."

"Don't be stupid. Of course it hasn't. I'm just surprised to hear the gossip columns have got something right for a change." They exchanged a look between them and I sighed in frustration. "It's true, you guys. I'm not still mooning over my Quidditch captain and writing obsessively in my diary to treasure what conversation we had during practise."

The whole diary thing had been a mistake from the start. On the last day of my fourth year, when we had won the Cup, Fred and George planned a little surprise for the whole team excluding Oliver. At least they had that much courtesy. What followed in the changing rooms was an entire enactment of the contents in my leather bounded book. Fred managed to glue a handful of brown stockings together as a wig and he stole some hideous skirt from a poor girl in his attempt to imitate me, whilst his other half showed off the six-pack I had drooled about in my diary with the help of a giant Japanese sumo suit.

"I know!" Angie perked up suddenly after the silence that followed my insistence that no one but myself believed. "How about a spin in the sky for old time's sake?"

"I'd love a go on Katie's new baby." The brunette next to me agreed instantly, blue eyes sparkling at the prospect of speeding up to a hundred miles per hour unchecked. We were all speed-addicts and I revelled in the chance of some serious adrenaline.

"Count me in." It would serve as a good distraction and I did want to burn off some calories from all the junk food I had consumed as breakfast. A quick peer in the mirror made me hesitate. "Hang on you guys, I can't go out like this." My magenta skin served as the obvious 'this.'

"Pft, child's play. Come here." Angie pulled out her wand and waved it my face. "_Illusinus_."

I felt a small trickling sensation crawling over my skin. The reflecting glass now showed me as my normal self, minus extra pinkness and all. "I'm back to normal?" I raised my finger to touch my face in disbelief.

"As normal as you can get, Katie Bell," Alicia teased, her lips twisting into a lop-sided grin.

"Not exactly - this is a mere blemish spell that uses illusion to create the look of flawlessness. It lasts over two hours but will gradually fade away. A lot of girls use it but it's advised to limit the number of times the spell's cast in a day to renew it, as excessive usage might irritate the skin."

"Whatever," I waved the explanation aside. "Lemme grab my Rocket and we can go."

"Don't you want to change first?" Angie asked in consternation, viewing my light blue boxer shorts and ragged extra large t-shirt. Alicia rolled her eyes and whistled innocently whilst flopping down again. It was going to take a while.

Half an hour later, we marched towards the Rentals Shed with my broom across my shoulder. Angelina had rooted around my miniature suitcase and finally demanded that I reveal myself to the public in a siren red halter top and cut-off jeans that were a light blue from incessant washing. Getting the passes to borrow two Firebolts from the Rentals tent didn't take long. From what I could see, if Angelina had leaned forward just a tad more, the seated, teenage, pimple-face clerk would have handed the passes over for free.

There weren't that many people hanging around toward the edge of the woods where the sheds were-. In fact, there were none whatsoever. I frowned lightly at empty grass plains which served as practise fields for the public and shrugged. The closest designated apparation spots were at least a mile away and perhaps people didn't fancy walking all the way to get a decent sized space to play Quidditch in the hot weather. Apart from the soft blow of wind and an occasional whistle, from what I could tell, the entire area was deserted. So when a shout was sounded at the back of the sheds, my heart thumped quicker. Another yell of outrage was heard.

Unanimously, without exchanging a word, Alicia, Angelina and I started out at a run to cover the space quicker. I grabbed my wand from my jean pocket as I sprinted towards the source of the shout. Angelina got there first and as I wheeled around the corner, I crashed into her.

It appeared as if the famous duo had managed to get up to mischief again.

One of them - I couldn't tell which since his face was hidden by a massive black mask with sequins and feathers stuck over them, was straddling a furious Oliver Wood whilst the other had already pulled a blindfold on the man and was trying to stick a piece of tape over his mouth. Oliver's hands were already tied together. None of the guys had noticed our arrival. For that I was grateful, since it allowed me an extra three minutes to gawp at the scene before my eyes, my irritation (to put it mildly) for all three vanishing in my curiosity. I didn't know where the twins got their costumes from - I'd have thought with the gold they were raking in, they could afford to outfit themselves in things more suitable. Such as real bandit masks perhaps, rather than masquerade ball leftovers. However, their taste in appropriate attire had always been challenged and it was amazement on my part that Angie even let Fred out of the house dressed as he did half the time.

"What's going on here?" Alicia forced herself to speak before she died of inquisitiveness.

I watched as all struggles ceased. For a second. Then Oliver renewed his efforts. "Alicia! Alicia Spinnet - is that you? Run! These people are dangerous!"

The twin with a fruit basket-replica hat, who was holding the duct tape, shook violently as he held a finger - to his pursed lips. Alicia snorted whilst the other girl laughed silently, holding her stomach as she doubled up in suppressed giggles. "How exactly are these people dangerous, Wood?" Alicia asked archly. The twin groaned and glared at her, mimicking a slashed throat and giving up on sticking to tape. That didn't stop Oliver from continuing with his one-sided struggles as the other twin had decided to get up after using magic to tie him up from head to foot.

"You don't understand. Get help-" Oliver panted out, writhing on the ground in a comical effort to escape the tight ropes. "They've kidnapped Katie-"

" - They've what?" My eyes widened in shock and I glowered accusingly at the two red-heads. They held their hands up in mock-apologies, side-splitting grins on their faces as Fred pulled off his mask, followed next by George.

Oliver froze at my question. "Katie? How did you get here?"

Fred and George ignored my violent gestures of untying the man in question, still determined to continue with the mimes. I rolled my eyes and kneeled down myself. The gravel dug painfully into my bare knee and I winced. Oliver had it worse. I pulled the pink blindfold away from his eyes and chocolate orbs blinked several times before focused on my face. "See, I'm free and fine." My voice was cool.

"But I was supposed to rescue _you_!"

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Okay, guys and gals, hope you liked this chapter. I know it's a semi-cliffy at the end but I thought that way would be more fun (for me anyhow XD).

Yup, I tried to make it obvious as to what the two evil geniuses were up to in my last two chapters as it wouldn't be fun for Katie to be really kidnapped- that'd be scary and everything would go all dramatic and serious.


	9. Introducing Freda the Bushy

**Disclaimer: not mine

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Flying Dreams

Chapter Nine: Introducing Freda the Bushy

Oliver

When Professor McGonagall told me becoming a pro-Quidditch star wouldn't be easy and that I should consider other options as backup, I listened to her sage advice with the utmost interested expression that I could conjure whilst daydreaming about how the hell to whoop the Ravenclaws' asses next month.

When my Dad ordered me to accept a job offer at the Ministry the moment I got out of Hogwarts, I enlisted Mum's help and made him see reason. I knew he still bore the scars till this day - mothers can be pretty vicious creatures. Any decent Muggle nature documentary can tell you that.

However, when I read the kidnappers list, I knew I had to follow their instructions to the letter for Katie's sake. This was why I managed to only get one, half bent Rocket out from under my team's beady eyes. And this almost explained why I was lying on the ground with Katie's quizzical eyes peering at me from above. Almost, but not quite.

"But I was supposed to rescue _you_!"I blurted out. Why the hell wasn't she bound with hemp rope, a spilled bowl of green soup next to her and rats scuttling across her legs? There should be a single slit of daylight on the cold concrete and two dirty bundles of hay as bedding and a skeleton or two across the cell, blank eye sockets staring at her. I admit my imagination may have got the better of me in this instance. Nevertheless, I was quite disappointed to see Katie was all good and well. It was especially humiliating that she was the one 'rescuing me.'

"Please can the chauvinistic remarks, Ollie dear. Chivalry's long dead, babe." Cackling followed Alicia's dry comment and I rolled my eyes, manoeuvring my arms to support my weight as I sat up. I had suffered worse under Alicia's tongue - four years would build anyone's immunity. Small sharp gravel fragments dug into my skin and I could see a thin layer of grey dirt covering my clothes. My skin wasn't in much better condition, to say the least. Shallow streaks of blood covered my legs and arms.

"I should have known you lot would be behind the whole letter scam," I scowled angrily at the two ginger heads that stood with coils of ropes and the lone broom I had brought with me. "Who else could come up with such a stupid name as The Conscientious Kidnappers of Katie Bell?"

"I must protest that the name was ingenious. Even George said so." The one I took to be Fred puffed out his chest in indignation, elbowing George to add his agreement.

"You wrote a letter to say you kidnapped me?" The lady in question asked in disbelief.

"No way, man! I didn't have anything to do with writing a letter. No siree."

"You just dictated it to me," George muttered darkly.

"I can't believe you two!" Katie threw her hands up in annoyance. "First you made me suffer for almost three hours with that spell whilst poking fun at me and snapping shots of my undignified state, then you attempt to blackmail Oliver for Rockets, and THEN you try to kidnap him as well! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blast your heads all the way to Pluto and back." She pulled her wand out and stepped forward menacingly, a deadly gleam in her eyes. Even I had the good sense to step away from her, never mind the twins. "Come on - I'm waiting."

"Because deeply you still harbour an undying fire of love for me?" Fred joked weakly, eyes fixed on the wand pointing at his face.

"For that, _I'll_ send your head to Saturn and back, Fredrick Nathan Alexander Weasley." Angelina finally spoke, moving to stand next to Katie and aimed her own wand at her boyfriend.

Alicia joined the two girls. "Don't you dare to even think about it," she warned George casually, a lazy smile gracing her face as he gulped.

"So what do you think girls? On the count of three?" Katie turned her head slightly to peek at the others from the corner of her eyes.

"No! Don't! No hexes - please not hexes!" Fred yelped in panic, breaking under the strain of the female pressure. To my shock and horror, he leapt for me, or to be precise, he leapt for my back.

I twisted around to grab his shirt but the damn boy dodged with skill whilst keeping me between the unwavering wands and his sorry ass. "Hey - stop that!" I yelled in annoyance, desperate to get out of the way before one of the girls decided to take a chancy aim. "I'm going to kill you for this."

"Rather you than them, mate," Fred panted out, casting a glance to how his twin was doing. A large guffaw escaped my lips unintentionally when I saw George furiously legging it across the fields despite the fact that no one was chasing him at all. "Blast," Fred muttered. "I am so dead."

"You can say that again." Katie's voice held no mercy whatsoever.

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**Katie**

They say revenge is served best in as a cold dish, but whoever said that obviously never had one Fred Weasley at their mercy for an entire summer afternoon. I don't mean it in a dirty way either - just the normal, diabolical schemes you normally get. Unsurprisingly, Angelina was well up for our little fashion show with Fred as the main model. It served us well that the clothes we chose were an exact replica of Barbie Malibu's wardrobe. Alicia outdid herself in the role of fashion photographer whilst Oliver extended his talents to provide an extremely thorough commentary throughout the show.

Yes, I had decided to allow Oliver to get his own back on one of the twins. It would be cruel of me not to and besides, his botched up rescue mission was rather sweet, despite whatever Alicia might have said about it.

I picked up one half of a floral bikini ensemble with a grin as I recalled how ravishing Fred had looked in it, tossing it to Oliver has I proceeded along the deserted fields a few miles away from the main Quidditch Convention. A large blanket of confetti and ripped petals decorated the grass and a sparkling stage filled with neon lights sat right in the middle. This was where supermodel Freda the Bushy had launched his virgin modelling career today. There was a piece of cloth hanging between two trees that served as a changing room, but most of the clothing was strewn around the field anyway. Hence my pick-up duty along with Oliver - Angie and Alicia had disappeared minutes ago to hunt down George.

"I have to say, I preferred the orange tie-dyed, beaded tankini," Oliver observed as he made whatever I handed him go poof with his wand.

"Really?" I threw the bikini bottom at his face, but he zapped it away before it could hit him. "I didn't know you swung that way - what would the paparazzi say?"

" '_Heartbroken: Millions of girls seeks counselling after superstar Oliver Wood comes out'. _That sums it up pretty well, don't you think?"

"That'd be a real front page contender in the Weekly Toadstool's Digest, I'm sure." I smirked.

"Damn. I was aiming slightly higher for the Daily Cauldron News."

"If you tell them about your twenty week pregnancy, then I think you might make it."

"And where exactly can I find a twenty week old foetus to put inside my non-existent womb?"

I snorted, bending to pick up a dazzling cerulean one piece with frilly bits around the edges. "eBay, dude. You can get anything off there."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. So what do you think?" I turned around with the swimming suit held to my chest. "It's so my colour, no?" I stuck out my hips and threw out an arm in a ridiculous gesture whilst making a salmon-put face at him. After watching Fred prancing aimlessly on the catwalk, I was glad to say that I had picked up a few tips.

"You'll certainly give Freda a run for his money. I wish I had Alicia's camera right now." He sighed wistfully and picked up a random - floppy thing off the grass with the tip of his wand. "This will complete the whole thing." He handed me the massively oversized straw hat that I recalled Angie had conjured up after a particular bout of hysterics.

I squashed the thing on to my head without hesitation and gave a small twirl. "Well?"

"Not bad, your hat's wonky though. Hang on." He stepped forward and pulled the straw brim a bit downwards, not forgetting to give my nose a good tweak at the end. "Your red skin really matches that swim suit you've got there."

"That's so rude!" My hands shot up to my cheeks in horror and with a curse, I recalled my magenta skin condition. Blood rushed into my face and my good mood vanished rapidly. "This is all your fault!" I snapped angrily, flinging the monstrosity off my head. My feet quickly reduced it into nothing but a mere pile of unrecognisable bits of hay and green ribbons. I was embarrassed beyond belief to be caught out in the open with my fuchsia pink skin for the world to stare at.

"What…?" Oliver stared at me in confusion, his eyebrows drawn together into a frown.

"If you didn't force me to coming with you to that stupid dinner with the damn American team, the press wouldn't have splashed my pictures across the papers and I wouldn't have become the sole target of every female's vindictive streak and turned into a god cursed pink balloon and a handbag!" My hands scrubbed at my forehead rapidly as I tried to remember what spell Angelina had used. All I got out of it was aching temples.

"It sounds like you've been through a couple of trying days," he observed, more amused than concerned.

I glowered at him, making no attempt to reply.

"So what do you want me to do? Kiss it all better?"

"It wouldn't hurt." I muttered uncaringly, not actually comprehending what just went out of my mouth. "Hey! What are you doing?" I yelped with he stepped even closer to me, his eyes dark with mirth and something else. His hand reached up to tuck a strand of loose hair gently behind my ears. I moved back nervously.

"You wanted a kiss to make it all better, remember?"

"I didn't mean it literally! Oliver - you can't do - " My violent protests was cut off abruptly as his lips crashed down onto mine.

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Yeah yeah, that was a rather clichéd ending but I want to get the plot moving ahead and I do love some cliff-hangers!

Review please!


	10. When things become a tad clearer

**Authors Note: yeah, this isn't exactly what i'd call a fast update either but i did want to update it today, on the 14th Feb and besides, i was hoping that just 3 more people would have reviewed the last chapter to make it an even 100. **

**Good news is, i will be putting up beta-ed versions of the previous chapters soon as my beta (called Katie, hehe) has sent me the first siz chapters with grammar checks and such. Here's Chapter Ten anyway.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

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Katie

"_I didn't mean it literally! Oliver- you can't do-"_

I struggled. Or at least I attempted to by making funny gestures with my arms which didn't result to anything much, but only lasted for a few seconds. It was pure and simple- Oliver Wood was kissing me and it wasn't the normal brother-to-sister or friend-to-friend type of kiss either. I deemed it suitable to dub it as a 'snog' except I don't exactly like the word very much as it's one of those annoying words that I think look crass on paper and not lady-like at all, but then who was I to complain giving my own manners… I was babbling. That was bad. Really really bad. Real bad. More than bad. Catastrophically awful. Katie Bell does not babble. Well, she does sometimes. I mean I do sometimes. But that's beside the point. The point is the fact that Oliver is kissing me and I'm trying to analyse my history of babbling. Yeah, so romantic.

"Katie?" Oliver murmured softly against my lips, confusion in his voice. "What's wrong?"

It took me several seconds to make my mind focus and then another few more seconds to figure out how to make my mouth work properly. "N-nothing." Gods, I hate stammering as well. Katie Bell does not stammer.

"You were like a wooden puppet during that little…_thing._" He pointed out as he released me. My knees collapsed instantaneously on itself and I sunk down onto the grass. It was safe to say that all my muscles had gone numb with shock. Oliver crouched down next to me and ruffled his hair distractedly- a sure sign that he was worried.

"A thing? Is that what you kids are calling it nowadays?"

"C'mon, Kates. This isn't the funny. It's only a kiss, okay? I'm really sorry if you got offended or anything."

"A get-better-kiss, eh?"

"I'm not sure if that had worked, because if anything you seem to be more ill," he commented wryly. I watched his tapered hands pluck at the long grass blades in silence. The movement paused and he lifted his head hesitantly. "That…wasn't your first kiss was it?" I saw the horror in his eyes.

"Don't be silly, of course not." I brushed it off as brusquely as I could. Relief flooded his expression. It was true anyway- I had kissed a few guys because of dares back at Hogwarts.

"Then what's your problem?" Oliver demanded in frustration. "It was only a joke but now you're acting like I had raped you or something. Your face is a block of wood right now, Bell. Tell me what's wrong for god damn sake."

I shook my head stubbornly. He was a player on the social front with a new date for each new event and probably handed out _snogs _like leaflets to every girl he had met. It wasn't worth discussing the finer points of emotions with someone like him. "Forget it. I'm heading back."

"Katie! Don't you dare run away like this." His bossy voice emerged as I scrambled to my feet. His hand shot out to grab me but I dodged him easily with years of practice.

I whirled around to face him. "Watch me."

* * *

Oliver

_Blast. _I growled under my breath. _Girls_. I stared at Katie's retreating figure and climbed to my feet before starting to jog after her. I wasn't about to let this go. It was only a joke anyway, why can't she understand that? When I saw her over-pink face screwed up in anger and aggravation as she vented out on the hat, all I could think about was how sweet she looked. And how to stop her from committing any murders. A kiss was the first idea that popped into my head after her comment. Granted, it wasn't a very good one, from the looks of things.

"Katie- just stop, okay? Look, I'm sorry for whatever I've done," I called out in vain as I closed the distance between us. "Will you listen to me? KATIE!"

"Stop shouting my name, Woods," she hissed angrily when I neared her. "We're nearing the camp sites and that means people. Obviously you can't afford to have someone like me tagging along and ruining your image."

I brushed off her sarcasm. "I don't care about that. What I _do _care about is the fact that one of my best friends is running off mad at me without giving me a reason why."

"'Best friends'! Pfft." She snorted in disbelief. "Well, let's see then, oh best friend of mine- do you consider it good practice to go and play around with friends the way you do with other girls?"

"What?"

"Remember the Weird Sisters gig? Angie and Alicia saw you and some girl getting it on under the moonlight. Who is she? Your other best friend? Or is she just a friend? Well?" She glared at me with a fierce expression. The brisk walk had loosened her hair into a crown of tendrils that blew around her face wildly. Coupled with her lean frame and aggressive stance, it wasn't hard to imagine her as that Greek goddess of Hunt…Artemis or something.

"That…that wasn't anything." I spoke carefully, hoping it was the right answer. "She was a stranger…"

"Then why are you so worried?" Her smile was honey-sweet.

"Because contrary to whatever anyone might think, I care about you."

"Was that supposed to seduce me?"

"NO! Stop this 20-Question. Why are you so upset?" I simply couldn't think of any reasons on my own. The kiss on my part had been perfectly good but she hadn't been very responsive then. Maybe that was it. But I have yet to see someone getting mad because of a fucked up kiss.

Katie sighed, obviously in conflict with herself. I waited patiently, standing by the back of a tent. We had reached the Food Site, judging by the smell of things. "It's…it's just that I don't want to be toyed with, Oliver. Your uptake on kisses differs from mine and I don't think I'm the kind of girl who can accept one night flings or something like that. And before you say anything," she continued, ignoring my open mouth, "I'm perfectly aware that this time it was only as a joke based on my badly-timed comment. For that, I'm willing to take the blame. But Oliver, know that I came to this Convention to have fun as part of my celebrations to be out of Hogwarts. Afterwards, I need to focus on getting a job in the magical world. I really don't want to add another load to my baskets at the minute, so no more casual exchanges between us that transcends the friendship boundary, hmm?"

"O-of course," I replied, slightly stunned at her sudden calm approach. Katie smiled at me in appreciation and patted my arm lightly. I rubbed the spot that she had touched surreptitiously and tried to push back the small knot of disappointment that came with her words. She needed me to support her decision.

"Good Oliver. I knew you'd understand." Her whole visage transformed completely from a blanket of thunderclouds to a sunny summer afternoon within seconds. "Well, I'm heading off now- doesn't the England team have something lined up for this afternoon? Some autograph and answer-question sessions?"

"Oh, yeah. Meet and Greet, that sort of thing." I answered unenthusiastically, unhappy with her glib change of topics.

"Cool. Bye then." She gave me a quick wave and slipped through the gap between the tents with ease, disappearing into the crowds. This time I let her walk away.

* * *

Katie

It was a stroke of good luck on my behalf when I walked back and found the tent vacant. I crashed onto my bed spinelessly and closed my eyes in order to shut out the background noise outside. I hoped Oliver would respect what I had said, I really do. The reasoning was good and he had said that he agreed, hadn't he? The trouble was, I didn't agree with it entirely myself. Leanne and I had set out to the Convention both determined to get a summer fling in just for the hell of it. Now she has Jensen, but I still want a summer with some romance. _Just not with Oliver_, I thought sadly.

_Because you still like him, so it can all get nasty in the end for you. _I stirred angrily as the annoying voice in my head surfaced.

"No, because there'll be too much publicity on his end." I said this out loud to no one in particular in the empty tent.

_Excuses, excuses._

"That's not an excuse!" I huffed indignantly. "It's a perfectly good fact. Look what happened when I went to that stupid lunch with him."

_You're upset because he hadn't paid enough attention to you at the time, which proves you still like him._

"Plenty of friends get upset when their friends don't pay attention to them. It just goes to show me and Oliver are just friends."

_What about your jealousy when you heard he was making out with that mystery girl at the gig then? Friends don't get jealous like that._

I scowled. "Shut up."

_You still like him._

"I said SHUT UP!"

_Still doesn't change the fact that you like him._

"Okay, that's it!" I stomped to my trunk and briefly considered bashing my own head to muffle that idiotic voice, but the packet of yellow canary creams that was sitting innocently on the floor stopped me.

_You still like him! Katie loves Ollie._

Without hesitation, I pulled out a canary cream and shoved the whole thing into my mouth without any grace. Crumbs sprayed over the ground and the front of my top but I chewed frantically and waited for the change to take place.

* * *

The kiss was rather anti-climatic wasn't it? Hehe, i figured it'd be more realistic in this situation since i didn't want it to become a cliché with all the melting moments and such. The whole "his lips come crashing down" was enough of one i thought.

Anyway, Katie's feelings becomes a tad clearer in this chapter but no fluff for Valentines Day, boohoo. The two simply haven't reached that stage for major fluff yet so sorry to disappoint you guys if i have.

Please leave a comment about this chapter and happy Valentines Day!


	11. Goodie bag or your life?

**Authors Note: **I know it's been almost a month since i've last updated but frankly, my work load has been much more heavier than i had anticipated. With exams coming up in May that determines my University applications, school simply has to come first i'm afraid.

On a happier note though- this chapter is longer than usual, just slightly less than 4000 words for you entertainment. Also, i'd like to thank everyone who reviewed last chapter and finally brought me up to 100+ reviews!

So a massive round of hugs to the following: **An angel on ice**, **eram**, **inflatabletigers**, **the voice of singing clouds**, **TooSweet4Words**, **Eowebriviel** , **xLaceMeWithWindx**, and last but not least: **SummerSweetMelody**, who's a new reader so welcome aboard!

**Disclaimer: Not mine**

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Flying Dreams

**Chapter Eleven: Goodie bag or your life?**

**Katie**

"Remind me again why we've got tickets to a juggling/food eating contest when there are so much more occurring at this moment in time?" Leanne wasn't very happy as I dragged her through the French tent areas towards the Entertainments section.

"Because my dad was under the impression watching people flying in mid air, throwing apples and attempting to take a bite out of it before it dropped to the ground would be very fun to watch." I explained again for the tenth time to the petulant blond who was scowling fiercely.

"But we could still skip it."

"No we couldn't. The tickets have already been paid for."

"Get a refund then."

"It's non-refundable."

"How do you know? You haven't tried." Leanne stared at me suspiciously, a corner of her mouth lifting into a smile as she believed to have caught me out in a lie.

I raised an eyebrow and waved the small sections of ticket parchment in my hand for emphasis. "Believe me, I've tried. The very first thing I did the moment I saw the itinerary that dad planned was to pop over to the Ticket Office. Did you actually for a moment think that I'm willing to watch sacks full of fruit raining down on my head as the guys in the air missed with their mouths gaping wide open and saliva dripping down? Or something equally exciting?"

"You've done worse," she muttered sullenly. "I just really want to go to Jensen's game."

"I know, but there will be other matches." I watched her downcast face and hesitated. I hadn't told anyone about what had happened with Oliver yet because the Convention programme had packed so much stuff in that Leanne was constantly with Jensen and Angelina and Alicia had already left, leaving me with no one to talk to. Maybe now was the time to spill my guts.

"You're right. I just really wanted to go to this one- it's against Bulgaria and he needs my support! I know he'll be too busy playing to try and spot me in the stands and all, but it's the thought that counts. Psychologically, if Jensen thinks his girlfriend is in the stands and cheering him on, he'll try and impress her and play better, plus I think I'm really getting the hang of Quidditch rules now."

I swallowed the confession that was heaving its way up my throat and forced a teasing smile on my face as I climbed over the fence that separated the fields when we reached the edge of the pitch. "I had never been able to figure out how you managed to go to countless Hogwarts Quidditch games and still not know the rules."

"Oh I know the basics and all that, but it's the flying ploys and techniques that get me twisted." Leanne waved a dismissive hand as she gripped the wooden fence with her other. "Now how am I supposed to get over this stupid thing?" She demanded, inspecting the crumbly texture of the wood with distaste. Several passer-bys looked at us curiously but walked away quickly after receiving a blast of Leanne's evil eye.

"Just place a foot on the lower bar and climb over with your other leg." I waited patiently on the other side, too used to her girly behaviour to feel annoyed. And I knew she hated physical help with this kind of thing so unless I wanted to be knocked out by her storm of verbal insults, it'd be wise to stay put.

"I'm wearing heels, so I'll slip. Isn't there a gate around here that I could use instead?" Craning her head in a futile attempt to spot a handy gate, Leanne's scowl darkened when she answered her own question.

"Not for miles probably," I replied anyway. "This _is _a shortcut to the Entertainments according to the site map." My finger located the section we were currently at on the map that I held and tapped it for emphasis.

"Lovely. I'm a fully skilled witches and I'm expected to prance over these Muggle contraptions like _Muggles._"

"Use your wand and make it lower then," I shrugged. We were going to be late to the show so it was a good thing I didn't want to go in the first place.

"Um…on the other hand, how hard can climbing a metre railing wearing four inch heels be? I mean, it's not exactly rocket magic now is it? Humph. Here I go." Without waiting for a reply, Leanne heaved herself over as delicately as possible. I noted with amusement at her care to minimise the contact she had with the weathered hedge in order to avoid getting dirt on her miniskirt. Whatever dislike she had for Muggle items certainly didn't extend to fashion- she girl was a sucker for the large variety of skirts that only Muggles offered.

"Jump down now – it's not far off the ground."

"It looks quite high from here," she noted, peering down from her perch on the top of the hedge. It took several minutes before she decided that there was no option but to pray for the best and jump. She would have made the one metre jump successfully as well, _if _she had been wearing boots, or trainers, or maybe even those flat pumps that were frequently sprayed with an excess of glitter. Unfortunately, she had opted for those 3-inch spiky things and needless to say, she twisted her ankle and fell to the ground most elegantly.

"I'm okay…I'm okay." Leanne muttered unsteadily, climbing to her feet as I rushed to her side. "Told you these things are a killer." I didn't know whether she meant the shoes or the hedge, but decided not to ask for clarification.

"You didn't hurt yourself?" I wanted to know, crouching down to inspect her grazed knees. Apart from smudged dirt and a few red scratches, there was nothing serious. Shame I couldn't say the same for her white outfit. The front part was covered with dust and soil particles that could probably be dusted off easily, but the fabric had caught on something when Leanne jumped and a whole section at the bottom was torn. She was a mess, no argument about it.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she repeated, more focused on inspecting the damage done to the miniskirt. "This cost me a hundred pounds!"

"Get a refund," I said, grinning when she lifted her eyes to glare at me in mock-anger.

"It's your entire fault," she declared. "I said we should have Apparated to the Entertainments but you wanted to walk and check out the sights and now I've torn my skirt."

"But it's your own fault for not being able to climb over a simple fence."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is and I'm not going into the whole yes it is, no it's not thing again – we're late as it is." I pointed to my watch and took a few experimental steps before looking back to see if she was following.

Leanne stayed where she was and said, "You're thanking me for it, aren't you? Any excuse for missing that show. I still don't see why we can't skip it."

"Money already paid for, remember? Waste not, want not."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

We made it to the stadium perhaps twenty minutes late – my friend insisted on taking a detour to the Ladies to wash her knees and by that time the gates were closed. A teenage wizard slightly younger than us sat behind the Ticket Booth, reading a magazine that he quickly stashed under the table when he saw us approaching.

"Hi, we've got tickets to the eating contest?" I slid the parchment across the counter.

"I'm sorry, but that's already started and no late comers allowed." He gave a small shrug and one of those now-go-away smiles. I returned his smile with one of my own, just as fake as his but before I could reply, Leanne butted in.

"We've paid good money for those tickets! At least give us our money back," she snapped. "I didn't come all the way here just to be told that I've got to cross the stupid fence again without any rest." The girl wasn't in a good mood at all – not after seeing the entire damage done to her clothes in front of a mirror.

"Sorry, it's Convention policy – no refund or replacement if it's the beholder's own fault. You're late and we can't allow latecomers to shows like these- it'll disrupt the event."

"Excuse me? It's your stupid Convention's fault for placing an idiotic fence in the middle of nowhere. Look at what it did to me." The girl made a move as if to drag the guy out from his seat and force her legs into his face. Her face was already a nice blueberry colour and it was obvious from her flashing eyes that there was a lot of anger to be vented.

"Take it easy, Leanne," I murmured, slightly embarrassed that my friend was rapidly losing her slight grip on insanity in public.

"No, Katie. Now look here, this is the way I see it…" her tone took on a righteous note and I groaned, moving away ever so slowly so anyone looking wouldn't associate the crazy lady with me as the crazy lady's friend.

By the time Leanne came looking for me, I was halfway across the souvenir stalls and browsing across a selection of biting sea shell necklaces and daisies charmed to sing all the national songs backwards.

"Look what I got," she exclaimed triumphantly, shoving a new scroll of printed parchment into my face.

"His number?" I asked sarcastically but shook my head quickly when her face became puzzled. "Never mind that- I was referring to a Muggle contraption related thing. So what did you get?"

"Tickets to tonight's party! Everyone who's anyone is going to be there – Jensen has been telling me about it for days now but even he couldn't manage to get me a ticket to go this late."

"And a teenager with attitude can get you a ticket?" I didn't bother to keep the scepticism from my voice. The vendor manning the stall was giving us evils since it was obvious I wasn't going to buy anything, so I moved away slowly with Leanne bubbling beside me, all sunshine again.

She laughed. "It's his tickets that I snatched. I finally made him see reason and he was grateful enough to hand over these as an apology gift."

"That's bullying, Leanne." I said disapprovingly. "The kid was probably saving up for ages and queuing at the earliest hours of the morning for them if you say this party is going to be as great as you think it'll be."

"Nah, I deserved them more after what I've been through today. Do you know how traumatising it is for a girl to lose a beautiful skirt to such a brutal accident?" Leanne giggled at my expression and patted my arm as we moved down the stalls. "No, I didn't think so. We should go back and get ready for tonight in any case."

"I can't wait already." My sarcasm was lost on her.

"Me neither!" I groaned when she gave an excited squeal and literally ran to the nearest Apparation checkpoint.

What followed was perhaps the worst day of my life- grimmer than waiting for my NEWTs results or even waiting for the outcome of the war when the showdown between Harry and You-Know-Who occurred. Leanne set out a strict regime of pampering not unlike a military strategy plan and I was subjected to various pokes and miscast spells, along with a wide selection of Muggle make-up that she adored. Thankfully, she granted me half an hour's worth of break to wolf down a whole pizza – the pepperonis were lifesavers. Sometimes a girl needs to know there are things worth living for. Leanne finished her own hairstyle in record time compared to the entire hour spent tugging and pulling on my locks and curling each individual strand around her wand to create annoying little corkscrews that reminded me of poodles somehow. By the time she put away the last tube of lip gloss, the sun was almost setting and according to my rumbling stomach, it was way past dinner time.

"Eat," Leanne ordered and handed me a small banana whilst she looked through her collection for a handbag. Needless to say, I stayed away from those little purses and their innocent sparkling buckles that decorated the side.

Without being asked twice, I grabbed the food she offered and gobbled it down, as I was desperate to quell my moaning tummy. When I swallowed the last mouthful, she shook her head in resignation. "I don't want your stomach making a scene tonight, you hear? It's a good thing I've put an anti-swear charm on your lipstick, because otherwise my job would have been completely undone before we've even set foot outside."

"I don't have to go," I murmured, smoothing out a non-existent wrinkle in my dark green silk dress that Leanne lent me. I had to shrink it ever so slightly before it could fit since I was half a head shorter than her. "I don't want to go."

"Nonsense. It'll be fun and I really need a girlfriend to come along with me tonight. You're it, I'm afraid. Besides, it'll be waste of an expensive ticket if you don't go – there's a restriction on the number of public members allowed to attend so these babies went like hotcakes."

I smiled wanly and stared at my reflection in the mirror. A stranger gazed back coolly, giving me strength to finally give words to what had happened between Oliver and me the other day. The kiss had meant little, but it had slowly built up to something more in my mind as I replayed the scenes over and over in my head. I licked my lips nervously, grimacing at the vile taste of chemicals on my tongue. Leanne sensed my mood and stopped her last minute preparations of tucking everything she needed into the beaded purse on the vanity desk. "What's wrong?" She said with eyebrows furrowed.

"Oliver kissed me and I made him go away by making up excuses." I said quietly. Deep in my heart, I was regretting pushing him away so quickly but I had panicked then and my first instinct was to shut down the barrier around myself. It was a trait that I had developed over the years after witnessing the numerous heartbreaks of my friends and besides, Oliver considered the whole thing a farce anyway.

"When?" Leanne finally asked, taking several minutes to process my comment.

"The day Angelina and Alicia left. We were alone on some fields and I made a silly comment that dared him to kiss me." I looked up at her. "It didn't last very long though," I added.

"And you tell me all this now?" She threw her hands up in exasperation and pulled me onto her bed. "Tell me everything, don't you dare leave a thing behind. It's obvious you needed some girl-talk long before this."

My searching eyes found hers and I knew she was right. "I would appreciate some advice," I admitted with a grin. It looked as if the grand party would have to wait. Like the best friend that Leanne was, she didn't give a damn.

* * *

**Oliver**

"These gatherings are only worth the goodie bags," Helene muttered to me out of the corner of her ruby painted lips. A beautiful smile grace her face as she waved to some person that she had no interest in getting reacquainted with.

"We guys only get cigars and cufflinks so this is even more pointless for us – I don't even smoke." I told her, trying to outdo my fellow Chaser with the woes of my life. I spotted a past girlfriend in the direction we were heading and expertly steered Helene away from the crystal fountain where Louisa stood with a wineglass and a predatory gaze.

"Past girlfriend?" Helene asked unnecessarily, too used to my actions. Out of the whole England team, she and I got along the best. The girl was a Greek goddess with a sense of humour to match, but one date later and we decided to be friends. The spark simply wasn't there – I didn't feel anything romantic towards her, _unlike with certain brunettes. _

I sighed. "Unfortunately. She's a past mistake as well." We paused by a waiter and Helene selected a small titbit to satisfy her hunger. I didn't even try as past experiences told me there was no point. It was real food or nothing.

"So who are you seeing at the moment?"

"No one." My answer was curt.

"What about your former-Chaser that was on the front page on tabloids days ago? She looked like someone with more than nail varnish vapour in her brains." Her amber eyes pierced mine questioningly.

I grinned despite myself. "I doubt Katie has ever used nail varnish in her whole life."

"The more power to her," Helene smiled amiably and nodded to someone else as we passed them, not bothering to slow down to exchange greetings. It was an effective trick that the two of us had perfected during my first year making it into the big league - smile, nod your head but don't slow down. People always assumed that we had a destination that we urgently needed to reach if we adopt the particular style of walking. "Blast, I think we just passed Steele and she was glowering at us."

"Let me guess, she's coming over now." My companion gave a nod and I counted to ten slowly, without turning around. Just as I reached eight, Amanda's new perfume swept over us like some sort of swamp monster. "Hey Amanda."

"Why aren't you two socializing properly?" she demanded irritably, careful to keep her voice low. "Dancing is about to start soon and you won't get another chance to talk to some of the prominent figures present tonight. Haven't I stressed how important it is for you to make a good impression on other countries?"

"You've made that point countless times, Ms Steele. We may be athletes, but we haven't taken _that _many bludger hits to the head yet, so please give us some credit." She wrapped a slender arm around mine and smiled whilst tilting her head towards me. It was an oh-so-pure-but-ever-so-sexy smile that the photographers had first discovered when she was new to the scene. By now it was internationally famous.

"You're representing England here, so don't you dare make a fool out of me." Amanda pushed her pink rimmed glasses up her nose and glared furiously at the brunette next to me.

Helene widened her eyes artfully, "I wouldn't dare, Ms Steele, but I can't make promises for Oliver here. We all know about his playboy habits don't we?"

"Hey! Don't drag me into this." I grinned in good nature, holding up my hands to protest my innocence. "I've never cheated on any girl and that's more than I can say for over half of the population of males."

"Well, don't you start now." Amanda gave me a dirty look and gazed around the large ballroom agitatedly. Boy, she was really strung up tonight. "The owner of Spain's largest Quidditch team is here somewhere and word is she's looking for a lay tonight. What ever you do, do _not _offer more than a peck on the cheeks to Marisa Lowina. You can't afford more in any case," she added.

"Marisa? The richest witch in the world today? Wow…" Helene breathed out in amazement, turning to look me fully in the face. "If she comes on to you, promise her the best one night stand ever – it _is _what you're good at, no? Imagine how much she'll pay."

"Helene Goddard! Don't you dare take her advice, Oliver. I will not clean up after another one of your messes like that Katie Bell."

"Katie wasn't a mess to start with, so I don't know what you're taking about," I replied coldly, stung by her remark about my school-friend. Saying her name must have triggered something in me, because I swore I just saw her disappear into the crowds, wearing a stunning green gown. I blinked and refocused on the two women beside me – Katie had been on my mind a lot lately and it really was getting to me. There was no way in hell that the girl would ever wear a dress willingly or attend a party like this without a wand pointed to her back.

"Whatever," Amanda brushed aside my remark carelessly and carried on. "Another thing I forgot to mention earlier in the briefing is – do not in any circumstances mention the words 'Death Eater' to the ministry workers. I understand they're having difficulties tracking down the last remaining; determined ones and they're very testy about it. The pressure is on to capture them as quickly –"

A blast interrupted rudely and someone screamed. Several robed figures Apparated to the centre of the room and began to shoot red light into the ceiling. "EVERYONE STAY WHERE THEY ARE!" a magnified voice boomed out.

Confusion followed as people near them panicked and started to run towards the nearest exit but they appeared to be locked by a complicated spell. It was a stampede as red light changed to green and I saw several wands directed towards the people instead. Bodies crumbled to the ground. The three of us watched in dumb-founded silence at the scene unfolding before us. Before Amanda had reached us, Helene and I had reached a small indoor balcony surrounded by crystals and sparkling lights that was largely unpopulated. I felt vulnerable standing there with nothing to hide behind and when my hand reached towards my robe pockets, I groaned. The wand left lines and wrinkles on my tailored dress robes, so I left it in its case by my bed. By the looks of things, so had many others and that meant we were helpless. The robed figures were now shepherding everyone to the sides of the room and form lines. It wouldn't be long until we'll be spotted.

Helene gripped my hand tightly as we backed away slowly. We were almost hidden from view by the large ice sculptures and Amanda retreated with us. When we crouched behind a life size unicorn statue, Helene smiled weakly, "Forget the goodie bags, I'm happy to walk away empty handed, just as long as I get to walk away."

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**Review and tell me your thoughts on the plot. I'd love to know how you think this story is progressing.**


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